


The Dark Lady

by StellaStarMagic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: All-Out War, Character Death, Death Eater Harry Potter, Evil fem!Harry, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Graphic Description of Corpses, Magic vs Muggles, Obscure Magics, Sexual relationship between teen and adult, Torture, Underage Rape/Non-con, Violence, bigot fem!Harry, fem!Harry who kills and likes it, graphic sexual situations, light vs dark, trope-fest, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:27:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 66,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24880789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellaStarMagic/pseuds/StellaStarMagic
Summary: Lillian Potter, the Girl-Who-Lived. For years she suffered in her uncle's home. Physically, mentally, sexually. Her pleas for rescue were left unheard and with that, the last flicker of light in her was snuffed out. For her, there was only one thing left to do: await the Dark Lords return.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 109
Kudos: 550





	1. Initiation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Jana here, formerly known as ynmidk. Things happened that made me nuke my old accounts. In case you want to know, please refer to the Bio of my new FFN account (StellaStarMagic). I am re-uploading old fics and now, after finally forcing myself to rewrite this first chapter a bit, it's time for The Dark Lady to see the light of day again!
> 
> In case you are a first-time reader: abandon all hope, ye who enter here. This fic is as dark and evil as it gets, it depicts an incredibly unhealthy sexual relationship between a teen and adult, not to mention the various ways of torture and death. There's also a crap-ton of tropes in this fic. Rape, murder and what-have-you are all things depicted in various grades of detail. Read at your own risk!
> 
> Enjoy :o)

She landed heavily with a thud, her breathing hard. Shakily getting up she looked around. It definitely was a graveyard, albeit an old one. It looked decrepit as if it hadn't been looked after in a long time. Her gaze fell on a particular towering headstone with an Angel of Death statue next to it.

It read Tom Riddle Sr.

Her heart sped up in excitement.

A groan next to her caught her attention and she looked down at Cedric Diggory, who slowly scrambled to his feet. "Potter...do you know where we are? Is this part of the tournament?" he asked her.

She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the fool. How he had managed to get a hold of the cup at the same time as she still baffled her. "I have an inkling. If you want to even have a chance to survive this, then you should go and hide," she said.

"What do you mean? And what about you?" he asked.

She just scoffed at him. "Spare me with your chivalry."

He still hesitated, but his self-preservation finally won out as he made a run for it and hid behind a headstone in the far corner of the graveyard.

It was then that she noticed a hooded figure walking towards her and before she could even say anything she was stunned.

* * *

When she came back to, she was bound to Tom Riddle Sr's headstone. In front of her, she saw a huge cauldron. She tried to look inside of it and could _just_ make _something_ out, but the fiery sparks shooting out of it made it impossible to really see. Then, she noticed Peter Pettigrew, who apparently had been the hooded figure, and could not stop herself from throwing the man a look full of contempt and disgust.

He ignored her, however, and began what she assumed to be a ritual. "Bone of the father, unknowingly given. You will renew your son!"

Those words. Could it be? Could her dream finally become reality? "Are you reviving the Dark Lord?" she asked Pettigrew in an excited whisper.

He still paid her no heed and simply pointed his wand at the grave, making the ground shake before a bone burst out of it. He dropped said bone into the cauldron, turning the potion into a poisonous blue. She then arched a brow in morbid curiosity when she saw Peter shake and turn pale.

"Flesh of the servant," he began, his voice shaking, "willingly sacrificed." He picked up a knife and held his hand over the cauldron. Then, in a sudden movement, he cut off his hand. His pitiful scream filled the air, almost drowning the sound of his limb falling into the potion in the cauldron. His voice raw and belying his agony, he finished that part of the incantation. "You will revive your master."

The potion turned into a burning red. He then turned to her. "Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken."

Her eyes widened suddenly. "Wait!" she exclaimed but before she could continue to explain, he cut her arm with the knife and collected her blood. "No, you idiot! I'm not his enemy!"

She tried to kick him in anger but he just shot her a look and emptied the vial with her blood into the cauldron. The potion turned into a blinding white and then became nothing but thick steam. Inside of the steam she could make out the rising silhouette of a naked man. She could see him touching his body and his face. Then, a deep, commanding voice spoke. "Peter, robe me."

The whimpering mass of Peter Pettigrew got up, handing a set of robes to the man.

He stepped out of the cauldron and then, she could finally see him.

She let out a small gasp. It was not what she expected, though she wasn't sure what exactly she was she had been expecting.

In front of her stood Tom Riddle and he seemed to be in his early twenties – something that shouldn't be possible.

"My wand, Peter."

Here he was, the Dark Lord, throwing about commands at his lessers with such ease and casualness. Admirable. She truly admired such casual power and dominance with every fibre of her being.

"M-m-my Lord..." He whimpered as he handed the wand to his master, before cowering again, holding the bleeding stump of his arm.

The Dark Lord took it and ran his fingers along its smooth surface almost reverently. She could tell how much he had missed the feeling of it in his hands – his real hands.

He appeared lost in thought and Lillian could not help but wonder what he was thinking about. She also wondered how it was possible that the Dark Lord had this appearance. He looked handsome, there was no doubt, but from what she had found out over the past couple of years, he had to be at least sixty or so years old.

Not to mention the fact that his appearance was supposed to be less than human.

"My Lord..." The Dark Lord turned back to Wormtail who was crawling towards him, "my Lord...you promised...you did promise..." Wormtail's robes were shining with blood now; he had wrapped the stump of his arm in them.

"Hold out your arm," the Dark Lord said without a hint of compassion for his servant's pain.

"Oh Master...thank you, Master..." Wormtail extended the bleeding stump, but

The Dark Lord shook his head.

"The other arm, Peter."

Lillian bit the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from laughing at Pettigrew's crestfallen look.

"Master, please . . .please ..."

The Dark Lord quickly lost his patience with his servant. He reached down and grabbed Pettigrew's left arm. He forced the sleeve of his robes up past his elbow, baring the Dark Mark that was tattooed there. The Dark Lord examined it and stroked it almost lovingly.

"It is back," he said softly. "They will all have noticed it...and now, we shall see ... now we shall know ..."

He pressed a finger onto the mark, Pettigrew howling in pain. He gave a victorious laugh.

"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered, his dark eyes fixed upon the stars. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"

He then turned back towards her. "Lillian Potter." He whispered, smirking at her, causing shivers to run up and down her spine. "You stand upon the bones of my late father. A filthy muggle. Very much like your mother." He gave a low chuckle. "But they both had their uses in the end. Your mother died to protect you and my father, after I killed him, proved himself useful in his death."

Lillian wanted to agree, she wanted to denounce the dirty blood running in her veins, but the words just wouldn't come. She had wanted this. She had read up all she could about Lord Voldemort and Tom Riddle, she had snuck out so many times late at night into the restricted section of the library, learning dark and dangerous spells and she had tried out so many of them on any animals she could find. She even had a favourite spell by now. She couldn't wait to use it on another person.

 _It would be easier if I was a bloody Gryffindor_.

Sometimes, being a Slytherin did have its drawbacks...like not having the courage to speak up to the wizard you admire the most – like the Dark Lord himself.

" _Crucio_!"

Suddenly she was hit by blinding pain. Her entire body convulsed, the ropes were cutting into her soft skin as she strained against them. Then the pain stopped and she whimpered in relief.

"You will talk when spoken to!" the Dark Lord barked at her.

"I-I'm sorry, my Lord..." she answered, finally finding the words.

He gave a loud laugh. "Found your manners, didn't you?" He then looked around the graveyard. "Ah, here they come..."

Several loud pops echoed around them as cloaked and masked figures apparated into the graveyard.

Her muscles still twitching, she tried to find a more comfortable position against the tombstone. She looked up and saw several Death Eaters standing at attention before their Dark Lord. She scoffed when she saw glimpses of long pale blonde hair under one of the hoods. He was a pathetic excuse of a servant for the Dark Lord and his talentless squib of a son was nothing but a whiny, spoiled brat. No matter their bloodline, the Malfoys were a family she abhorred.

Suddenly, one of the Death Eaters crawled forward on his knees and kissed the hem of his Master's robes, animating the others to do the same. She heard them murmur " _Master_ " and " _my Lord_ ". She scoffed again, audibly this time.

"You show some respect, you filth!" one of the Death Eaters shouted at her as they formed a small circle around her, the Dark Lord and the still sobbing heap of Peter Pettigrew.

"You are not even worth the dirt under my fingernails and yet you have the gall to call _me_ filth?" She looked him up and down as best as she could from her position, wrinkling her nose in the process. "You should curb your superiority, _grunt_."

"Silence!" The Dark Lord barked and at once, one could hear a pin drop. "Thirteen years. Thirteen long years since we last met like this, my Death Eaters. Yet here you are, answering my call as though it was only yesterday. We are still united under the Dark Mark then, aren't we?" He looked around. "I think not! All I see is once loyal followers who denied me, who plead innocence, who plead bewitchment. Where were you when you could have come to my aid? Did you think I was gone? Dead even? You, who knew the steps I took to defeat death itself?"

"Master, forgive me!" One of the Death Eaters flung himself forward, crawling on his knees towards his Master. "Forgive us all!"

The Dark Lord looked at him in disgust and raised his wand. "Crucio!" The Death Eater screamed in pain as her idol looked around at his followers. "I do not forgive! I do not forget! But you want it? Then earn it! All of you have a debt of thirteen years to pay!" He lifted the curse, the Death Eater panting and whimpering in pain. "Get up, Avery." He said, before looking at Pettigrew. "Peter here has paid off some of his debt, haven't you Peter? Despite your cowardice, despite your returning to me out of fear of your friends instead of your loyalty to me...you helped me return to my body. And not just _any_ body. Look at me! A botched ritual probably, pure luck and coincidence, I assume, but the result is in your favour. Never shall it be said that Lord Voldemort does not reward his followers."

He made some waving motion with his wand and conjured a silver hand which attached itself to Peter's stump. Lillian could not help but look in awe at such an effortless display of magic.

Peter Pettigrew looked at it, his eyes wide and teary. "My Lord! Thank you!" He grabbed the hem of the Dark Lord's robes, kissing it repeatedly. "This is so much more than I deserve!"

"I know." His Master looked dispassionately before kicking at Peter, so he would release his robes.

He then stepped towards Malfoy, his long blonde hair not fully hidden under his hood. "Lucius, my slippery friend," he spoke to him in his deep, smooth voice. "I have heard about your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup. While they sound amusing enough, wouldn't your energy have been better invested in finding and aiding your Master?" He asked, his tone calm but the danger it was laced with sent shivers down Lillian's spine.

"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert," came Lucius Malfoy's voice swiftly from beneath his hood. "Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately, nothing could have prevented me -"

Lillian couldn't stop the loud snort that escaped her and tried to suppress her laughter but couldn't stop that either.

She felt the eyes of everyone present on her and while she couldn't see his face, she could most certainly imagine the thunderous look on Malfoy's face. The Dark Lord looked at her with a bemused expression. "I am curious about what it is you find so amusing, Lillian Potter."

He didn't ask for her to elaborate. He ordered her and she knew it. "I am sorry, my Lord," she began and the way she addressed him got the circle of Death Eaters abuzz with curious murmurs. "It's just...from what I have heard, Mr Malfoy here was one of the very first to claim that he was under the Imperius the entire time he followed you and he would never have done so otherwise. I just thought that the way he buttered you up so he won't get punished...was funny because it was so pathetic."

The Dark Lord's face was unreadable and she saw Malfoy stiffen behind him while she explained herself. She smirked at the Malfoy patriarch, fully aware of his hidden eyes on her. She decided for another dig at him. "Kind of reminds me of his squib of a son...no talent for magic, whiny and spoiled. Pathetic, like his father."

The silence around them was deafening. Lillian kept on smirking when the Dark Lord turned back towards Lucius Malfoy. "What do you have to say to that, Lucius?" he asked, his amusement clear.

"I wish to duel this brat to teach her some manners if you will allow it, my Lord," Malfoy ground out between his teeth.

"You will not kill her," the Dark Lord said and with a flick of his wand released Lillian from the ropes. She dropped down with a grunt and had to take a moment to gather herself. Then, she got up and stared at Lucius, a mocking smile playing at her lips.

The Dark Lord looked at Pettigrew with obvious annoyance. " _Her wand_ , Peter."

"Of course, my Lord." Pettigrew hastily picked up her holly wand and handed it to her.

" _Crucio_!" She aimed her wand at Peter Pettigrew, her face contorted in an angry grimace as he writhed in agony, dropping to his knees as the other Death Eaters stared in shock at her for using an Unforgivable Curse. "You have no idea how much I wanted to do this since last year, _Wormtail_ ," she hissed at him. "You filthy coward. You pathetic, little-"

"Enough!" the Dark Lord snapped at her.

Lifting the curse off of Peter, she turned towards the Dark Lord and bowed at him. "I am sorry, my Lord." It was obvious that she wasn't.

Riddle eyed her for a few moments, his expression unreadable. Again she wondered what he was thinking.

"Do you know how to duel, girl?"

"Yes, my Lord. We learned the...basics...in my second year," Lillian answered.

"Very well. Then begin, I am very interested to see how this will play out."

He stepped to the side, leaving the centre free for Malfoy and her.

They both had their wands at the ready and barely inclined their heads at each other when Lillian quickly aimed her wand at the ground in front of Lucius, shouting " _bombarda_!"

The Death Eater barely had the time to erect his protego as the dirt at his feet exploded, covering their battleground in heavy dust. She quickly followed it up with an _ossis effergo_ , aimed at Lucius' general direction and smiled in satisfaction when she heard a pained cry through the still settling dust. Then, she raised her wand and cried " _serpensortia_!"

A large black snake appeared explosively from the tip of her wand and, with a heavy thud, fell on the ground.

" **Greetings, my friend** ," she hissed at it in parseltongue. " **Find my enemy through this dust, please. Attack him**."

" **As you wish, young mistress** ," it replied and slithered onward.

She followed the conjured serpent and smiled again when she saw it strike at Malfoy several times, only just missing as he kept dodging while cradling his broken arm with his wand arm.

Lillian aimed her wand at her opponent with an excited and cruel grin. "I wanted to try this on a person for the longest time." She made a circular motion and a sharp thrust with her wand while mumbling. " _Somnum exterreri solebat_ ".

A dark purple mist shot out of her wand and circled Lucius' head before disappearing in it. As soon as it was gone he stiffened, his eyes unfocused. Then he started to scream and trash on the ground.

Her snake was about to take the opportunity to sink its fangs in him when it suddenly disintegrated into nothing. She looked up and saw the Dark Lord with his wand raised. He then aimed it at Malfoy and lifted the curse off of him.

"One of my most loyal Death Eaters, humiliated by a fourteen-year-old girl...the Girl-Who-Lived no less."

"My Lord-" Lucius began with a weak voice but Riddle interrupted him.

"Get out of my sight." Once Lucius got on his shaky legs and back to his spot in the circle, he spoke to her, making her heart race unbearably fast. "Why do you address me like my Death Eaters do? Why don't you defy me?" His voice laced with genuine curiosity.

"Because I greatly admire you, my Lord," Lillian began and could barely stop herself from outright gushing. "You were one of the most accomplished students of Hogwarts and are the most powerful Wizard in history. You have delved in magic that others wouldn't touch and came back more powerful. There is not a lot that earns my respect," she said with a pointed look at Malfoy who stared right back at her. "Power and knowledge are among those things though and you have all those things in abundance, my Lord."

The Dark Lord looked pleased with her words. He didn't bask in them for long, though, and continued his questioning instead "Since when do you speak parseltongue?"

"I first discovered that I speak it when I was ten," she answered. "Though Dumbledore said it might have something to do with my scar."

Arching an eyebrow, the Dark Lord stepped towards her and grasped her by the jaw. Her eyes widened but she didn't say or do anything.

He pointed his wand at her scar after eyeing it for some time and pressed the tip firmly against it before pulling away slowly. She started to shake from the pain and let out a strangled cry after he yanked his wand away with a sudden movement, then he released his grip on her and she collapsed on her knees, breathing heavily. Her eyesight started to shift for the worse and she took off her glasses, surprised to find that her vision seemed to have been corrected after whatever it was in that blasted scar was removed.

She got back on to her still shaky feet and looked at her idol, who stared at something smokey that was attached to the tip of his wand. "My Lord...what is that?"

"A piece of a piece of my soul." He answered and pointed his wand at his forehead, merging the piece back with himself. His eyes rolled back in his head and, for a moment, it seemed like he would collapse, but he caught himself and straightened back up as if nothing had happened. His eyes then moved from her forehead, noticing the lack of a scar, to her eyes, noticing the lack of her glasses. "It appears that piece not only gave you the scar but also interfered with your eyesight."

"Yes, my Lord. It seems so. I don't need them anymore," she confirmed.

" _Serpensortia_." Again, a snake appeared in the graveyard, this time summoned by the Dark Lord. He looked at her. "Try to speak to it."

"Yes, my Lord." She then turned towards the snake. " **Do you understand me, my friend**?"

" **Indeed I do, little serpent** ," it answered, sounding excited to boot.

With great relief that she hadn't lost her ability as a parselmouth, she looked at the Dark Lord, who nodded at her. "You will go to Gringotts and will have your heritage checked. I want to know in what way you are descendent of Slytherin." He then turned to the snake. " **You may leave. You are released.** "

The snake hissed a _thank you_ at them before it slithered away, it's tongue tasting the air for possible prey.

"How well do you perform in school?" the Dark Lord suddenly asked, earning himself a startled look from her.

"Uhh...I-I am top of my year in almost every class, Herbology being the only exception, my Lord. May I ask why you want to know this?"

He paused for a moment, seemingly weighing his words. "I have plans for you," he finally answered. "I have to admit...you did surprise me and you did impress me. But I need to know where your loyalties are and I will not believe you unless I see it for myself. For that, I need to enter your mind."

At that Lillian stiffened visibly.

"What is it?" he asked her, narrowing his eyes in suspicion upon noticing her reaction.

She swallowed, stumbling over her words a bit, hating herself and her filthy muggle relatives for this one weakness. "I-I...m-my Lord, there are some...some things you might see...t-that are...about w-what my muggle relatives did to me...made me do..."

He breathed loudly through his nose. "I see. Prepare yourself. Legilimens!"

She saw and felt how he went through her memories, some more and some less important. The less important ones he discarded quickly, but the more important ones he watched intently. Like the first beating, she got from Vernon when she was two years old. Like the first broken bones, she received after her first accidental magic. Like the first time, Vernon raped her when she was just 8 years old, crying her eyes out. She couldn't see the graveyard, the Dark Lord being in her mind forcing her eyes to see what he was seeing, but she felt herself shake. She was shaking violently but she didn't cry. That first rape was the last time she shed any tears and would remain as such.

She tried to compose herself as he watched more memories.

Her conversations with Dumbledore, her plea to let her live in Hogwarts during the summer, his dismissal of her when she told him about what happened to her in that house.

Then he saw that she had his diary and she panicked, having completely forgotten about it.

 _I'm sorry, my Lord!_ she thought, hoping he somehow heard her in her mind.

He saw how she studied in the Library, how she snuck out into the restricted section, he saw the heated discussions she kept having with the headmaster and how she shut him out from everything she did. How she kept the Dark Lord's diary secret and hidden after saving the Weasley girl and appeasing his first Horcrux. How she learned spells and curses from it on top of what she learned herself. Then, he removed himself from her mind.

She hastily touched her face with her hand, carefully at first, still thinking she had glasses on. After finding it dry, she let out a shaky breath.

"Give me your wand," the Dark Lord commanded her and she did as she was told. He ran his own wand several times over hers, mumbling several spells and incantations, making her wand shoot sparks in several colours. After a few more moments he handed it back to her. "I removed your trace. You can now perform magic whenever and wherever you want," he explained, his tone of voice telling her more than his words.

"Thank you, my Lord," she whispered.

She wasn't defenceless anymore. And if her _uncle_ even thought about touching her ever again she would destroy him.

"Lucius." He turned towards the still injured Malfoy patriarch. "We will have to have an in-depth talk about my diary." His voice was calm; deadly calm.

"My dear Death Eaters," the Dark Lord spoke loudly, capturing the full attention of his followers once more. "It appears we made a bigger catch today than we could have hoped for. All we expected was to kill Dumbledore's golden girl, his champion – and now we are here and find that he has neither." He paused and Lillian was eager for him to continue. "Instead, we have an exceptionally talented, intelligent and ruthless young witch, willing to join our cause." He paused again as there was loud murmur going on between the Death Eaters. With a smirk, he continued. "Welcome my new apprentice, the Girl-Who-Lived herself, into our ranks."

There was a loud reaction, some shocked, some confused but most saw the opportunities with this, so there were some cheers.

"M-my Lord, really?" Lillian's eyes widened comically and she was sure that every single Death Eater looked the same way. Her dream was actually coming true.

"Yes...apprentice."

Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest. She then dropped down to a knee, her gaze on the ground. "Thank you, my Lord. You won't regret this decision."

"See to it that I won't." He said. "You do understand that you will spy for me? That you will lie for me and torture for me? That you will kill for me?"

"Yes, my Lord." She answered and couldn't wait to begin.

"Good. Then today we will have your initiation. Nott, bring me the boy," the Dark Lord ordered one of his Death Eaters, pointing at where Diggory apparently was.

Nott immediately did so and, after a short scuffle – which ended with a quick stunning spell from Nott– brought the unconscious and unarmed Hufflepuff with him, dragging him by the cuff of his shirt.

He tossed him into the middle of the circle, at the feet of Lillian and Riddle and used _Renervate_ on him, resuscitating him.

Her new master looked at her. "Kill him, apprentice, and you shall officially earn your title and rank among us."

Diggory's eyes widened in shock and he paled. "Apprentice?! Potter, what did you do?!"

Lillian straightened and gripped her wand tightly as she turned towards Cedric.

"Yes, my Lord," she answered and raised her wand. "Goodbye, Cedric. _Avada Kedavra_!"

A bright green light shot out of her wand and struck Diggory at his chest, his shocked expression still on his face as he dropped dead.

Lillian grinned widely and felt giddy as adrenaline rushed through her system. She did it. Her first kill and it was someone from her school no less. She looked at the Dark Lord, waiting for his reaction and hoping for his approval and her hopes were heard.

"Very well done, apprentice." He looked around at his stunned Death Eaters, a victorious grin on his face. "Look at her! A fourteen-year-old girl, initiated into our ranks with the murder of a school friend. No hesitation, only determination, ruthlessness, eagerness to please and a thirst for my approval. She will be moulded into a weapon that Dumbledore and his light will fear."

Lillian felt pride swell in her chest at the Dark Lord's words. Excitement was settling in around her as the Death Eaters started to truly understand what they had gained. She knew that it wasn't just that they had gotten the Girl-Who-Lived as the Dark Lord's apprentice. It was all about the fact that she was willing. She wanted this. It was probably their biggest victory to date and she was at the centre of it.

It was time for a new era to begin.

* * *

She looked at Alastor Moody with mirth in her eyes. She knew who he really was since her master had informed her before she was to return to Hogwarts' grounds. Her wand had been cleared off the dark spells after she had used several nonsensical light spells. She was also twitchy and had hurting muscles after having another _Crucio_ cast on her, along with a couple of cutting spells so she would look battle-worn. Only then did she return to Hogwarts with Diggory's body.

She made up a story of Pettigrew using the Cup as a portkey, killing Cedric and trying but failing to resurrect Voldemort.

She told them about how she battled him after he tortured her, how the adrenaline kept her going and how he used _Avada Kedavra_ on her, how she again didn't die. She told them how it destroyed something in her, _in her scar_ , and how her scar had vanished when she came back to and how her eyesight got better somehow as a result. How Pettigrew was gone and how she then returned back with Cedric. It was an ingenious story her Master had laid out for her and all the while, telling it as convincingly as she could, she avoided eye contact with the headmaster at all cost.

And now, here she was. In 'Moody's' office, after he said he would take her to the hospital wing. She sat across from him, a small smile on her lips.

"So you are saying the Dark Lord hasn't returned? That it failed? What are you smiling at?!"

Then, she broke into a grin. "Relax, Barty." He looked like a fish, his mouth opening and closing several times. "You did well, this whole year. Our Master has tasked me to tell you that you will earn your reward in the summer. That you are to return to him. You are needed at his side, not here."

She shifted in her seat and flinched at a particularly painful spasm in her body.

"What happened there?" Barty asked, confusion written all over him.

"Remember your polyjuice, Barty. You don't want to get caught. I will tell you after you take your next dose."

Eyeing her warily, he got up and walked to a hidden cauldron, refilling the flask and dropping a hair of Moody's from his stash in it before taking a big gulp.

He then sat back down in front of her. "Talk," he said gruffly.

"The rat was successful," she told him. "The Dark Lord is back. I am not a pawn of Dumbledore. Our Master has confirmed it for himself and the Death Eaters that were there. He...went through my mind."

"So what? You are one of us now?" Barty asked her, his one good eye wide.

Lillian straightened up proudly, but not without a wince. "The Dark Lord took me in as his apprentice. And I am initiated." She explained.

"So that boy...?"

"It was me," she said, her tone not showing a hint of remorse.

"So it was a victory." He grinned maniacally.

"Indeed it was, Barty. The Dark Lord was really pleased with your performance." She groaned slightly in pain. "Could you help me to the hospital wing, please? He had to use Cruciatus on me to make it look like I was really tortured...I ache all over and I am really tired now."

* * *

She exited the train, pulling her trunk behind her. The term was officially over, the whole of the student body paid their respects to the late Cedric Diggory and Dumbledore couldn't stop himself from turning his parting words into a warning that the Dark never sleeps etc, etc. The train ride was the same old too: she was sitting in a compartment with the likes of Greengrass, Parkinson, Zabini and Malfoy, reading while they were talking about their families latest accomplishments and balls they would attend to. She wondered what her Master would think about these snotty and spoiled children. Their talent was average, their marks mediocre. They thought that their family names and the influence, wealth and connections of their parents would deal with all of their problems for them. They were in for a rude awakening. She hoped that, when that time came, she would be there to mock them.

With those thoughts running through her mind, she exited platform 9 3/4 and spotted the people she despised most in the world. Without a word they turned around and walked towards their car, leaving Lillian alone with the task of lifting the trunk into it. With the feather-light-charm on her trunk, it wasn't that big of a deal. After everything was stowed away she sat in the back of the car and listened to her uncle rant about how she was ungrateful and how she should cower before them and kiss their feet in thanks for taking care of her even when they didn't have to.

She was silent the entire way to Privet Drive. Once there, she got out of the car with her trunk and waited for the front door to be unlocked. Upon entering, she stopped after closing the door behind her and spoke up for the first time.

"What do you know about Lord Voldemort?" she asked her aunt without directly addressing her.

She would never use their names again. She would never call them aunt or uncle again.

"Wasn't he the maniac who killed my sister and her no-good husband? Why do you ask?" Petunia snapped at her.

Lillian smiled cruelly at them. "The Dark Lord has returned. Thought you ought to know."

Vernon growled. "Why should we care?"

"Because I was there when he was resurrected. Because he took me in as his apprentice. Because he was in my mind and saw what you did to me and removed the trace from my wand," she answered, her smile growing into a predatory grin as she drew her wand at them. They both paled with every word until they looked as white as a sheet and shook violently. "Don't you think for even a second that I am above killing either of you. But I need you for as long as the Dark Lord says so." She stared them both in the eyes. "And in case you filth don't believe me: _Serpensortia_!" The snake appeared with a bang and landed with a thud on the floor, hissing angrily at her relatives.

" **Calm down my beautiful friend. I still need them for now, but you can care for them a bit. I will release you into the garden and you can hunt there**." She looked up at her relatives and smirked at their panicked, wide eyes. "I can talk with snakes, by the way." Then, looking at her uncle with a cold expression, she walked right in front of him. "If you ever lay a finger on me again, I will have your entire arm for it." She whispered at him. "And then I will call some friends who will rape your wife until she won't ever be able to walk again."

Her uncle looked as if he was about to explode and her aunt like she was about to pass out. "I see, we understand each other," she said, looking at both of them. "I will be in my room then."

With that out of the way, she opened the door for the snake to slither into the garden and hunt for small rodents or the neighbours' pets. Then she climbed up the stairs into her room, giddy to see what the future had in store for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My very first fic, reborn again *wipes away single tear*


	2. Summer Part 1

Lillian walked into the Leaky Cauldron, ignoring the looks she was getting from people around here, especially teenage boys. She knew that puberty was being kind to her and that she was developing into a beautiful young woman. Yes, she was very petite, standing only at 5 feet and 2 inches, but that had a lot to do with the malnutrition and living in the cupboard during her childhood. And still, her body appeared to be well proportioned. Her breasts were indeed on the small side and she was sure that she would end up with a small b cup but that would be just fine and would fit her. Her waist was small and accentuated her developing hips. While she was nowhere near to being an athletic person, her stomach was still flat, albeit soft. Her legs under her summer dress were visibly smooth and soft, shaped nicely and would be one of her many aesthetic weapons. To top all of those wonderful physical developments her teenage body was undergoing off, people could now actually see that she also had a gorgeous face. Soft lips, long eyelashes, naturally delicate eyebrows, high cheekbones.

But now, after her scar and glasses were gone, people would now notice the nice contrast between her pale skin, her black hair and hair piercing green eyes – at first glance.

And, even though Lillian Potter had little to no interest in sexual endeavours and had never shown any interest or desire to explore her own body – courtesy of her _uncle_ who raped such feelings and desires out of her in the past six years – she knew that she could charm young men and boys for favours if she used her features just right.

A subtle touch here, a little innocent eye contact there. She knew she had those possibilities, but she never saw the need to do those things, to reduce herself in such a manner to get what she wanted.

No, if she wanted or needed something, she found that blackmailing or threatening others was more effective. On rare occasions, a well-placed Imperius could do wonders too.

But using her womanly attributes was something she found too revolting.

Right now, though, it was just annoying, so she ignored all of those randy teenage boys who drooled after her as she walked through Diagon Alley and towards the Goblin bank _Gringotts_.

She didn't like those distasteful beasts but it was what it was and they were needed in the wizarding world. Very, very few creatures could compete with the ingenious ways the Goblins guarded their vaults. They were ruthless and at times even sadistic.

They were dangerous.

So, as she entered Gringotts, she made sure to be a polite teenage witch and not the Dark Lord's powerful, dark and sadistic apprentice.

Walking up to a free desk, she was greeted by the goblin sitting behind it.

"Greetings. Your name and your business," it said in its nasal and raspy voice.

"May your riches flow freely," she greeted it in return, showing some goblin courtesy she had read up on and, while the words were flowing easily from her mouth, she still had to swallow the bile rising in her throat.

"And yours too," the goblin returned, showing no indication that her words meant anything.

Lillian smiled at it, but her eyes remained cold. "The name is Potter and I would like to have a thorough inheritance test done so I can at least know if there might be potential vaults, titles or names I could claim or reclaim."

It glanced at her forehead, his eyes narrowing at the lack of a scar there.

She sighed in annoyance, already dreading the issue the vanished scar would likely cause in the future. "It's gone. I am still Lillian Jane Potter. If you want, you can have a blood test done right now to confirm my identity."

The goblin stared at her. "No need. Wait here as I find someone for your original business."

It got up from its chair and disappeared into the back, leaving her alone. Just a few moments later did it return with another, older-looking goblin. "This is Gradnik. He will handle your affairs from here."

Biting back a remark about creatures humanizing themselves with proper pronouns, she nodded at it and followed Gradnik into its office, where it offered her a seat in an uncomfortable chair.

Apparently, goblin's didn't care for human comfort, which irked her. _A lot_.

"I was told you want to do an inheritance test," it began as it rummaged for a knife and a large piece of parchment. It rolled the parchment out and flattened it on the desk, then it handed her the knife. "Three drops of blood."

"Will this be sealed?" she asked.

"Sealed to your blood. It will look blank to anyone else. With three drops of blood, you will allow others to see all."

Lillian nodded in satisfaction. She then nicked her thumb with the knife, letting her blood drop onto the parchment, _one, two, three_.

Immediately, names and lines, which linked the names to each other, appeared on the parchment. They spread along its surface in a deep red, the names of the deceased crossed out.

Once it stopped, Lillian went to look for the name she really wanted to see on there and grinned in satisfaction.

There, at the far bottom, she saw the name of none other than Salazar Slytherin. She knew he had to be somewhere in her bloodline after the Dark Lord confirmed that her ability to speak parseltongue was inherited. Still, her body was alight both with immense relief and pride.

Looking farther up after following some more lines branching up here and there, she saw the Peverells; a name she recognized but which didn't mean all that much to her. After that, the lines branched farther and farther apart until there were no real familial relations left of the Peverell's descendants up to the Potters. She appeared to be the last living descendant of them.

"So, I am a very far descendant of Salazar Slytherin..." she mumbled under her breath. "Just barely enough for me to be a parselmouth." Satisfied, she looked at the Goblin. "Is there anything that I could claim?"

"Well, the Slytherin Vault is already claimed by a direct descendant," it said.

She smiled at it, smug and with well-earned arrogance. "I already know that. I know that person."

"Very well. As for the Peverell name, there is not much to it. The name itself died out and nothing more than your now known blood-relation is left. We do not know of more as of now," it continued. "To the Potter name, there would be the Potter manor, some heirlooms and the main family vault. Those you can claim once you reach wizard maturity."

"You mean once I am seventeen years old."

"Yes," the goblin confirmed.

"Very well. That will be all."

It nodded at her, rolled the parchment up and took it with it as it left.

* * *

After leaving Gringotts, she walked purposefully to Eeylops Owl Emporium. An elder man greeted her.

"May I help you dear?" he asked her kindly.

Lillian gave a nod. "Yes, I need to send a letter." She had never bought herself an owl or any other pet as she never had anyone to exchange letters with and had no desire to care for a living being. When she could, she would study and complete her summer assignments – if her stuff wasn't locked away.

Usually, however, she was forced to slave away for her muggle relatives during the summer and endure other forms of abuse and humiliation.

_No more._

The man pointed her to a booth, where she could write her letter in privacy. Pulling out a small piece of parchment from one of the various stacks, since her letter would resemble more a note than an actual letter, she tipped the point of her quill into the ink and began to write.

_I finished my business at Gringotts._ _He_ _wanted me to inform_ _Him_ _of the results. I assume you know_ _His_ _location. I also assume I will be picked up. The address is 4 Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey. It is heavily warded. If I am to be picked up, there is a playground for muggle children close by. If He decides for other means to meet or contact me, then owl me._

_LJP_

After addressing it to Lucius Malfoy, she paid and left.

* * *

She was lain on her bed, finishing another summer assignment, when an unknown owl flew through her window and landed on her desk. Getting up from her bed, she walked towards the desk to untie the letter from the owl's leg.

"About time..." she muttered after having to wait for almost a week to receive an answer from Lucius Malfoy.

Reading it, she wrote a short note to confirm the information she got and bound it on the owl's outstretched leg.

Going back to her bed, she continued with her homework.

* * *

A couple of days later, late in the evening, she had her trunk packed with her necessities and went down to leave for the playground. Satisfied that a whole month had already passed so the wards would still be there, she left Privet Drive and headed to the meeting spot.

After 10 minutes of walking, she arrived at the playground and saw a lone, regal looking woman with long blonde hair sitting on a bench. Upon approaching her, the woman turned towards her, a look of distaste on her face. "Potter."

"Mrs Malfoy."

"I am to take you with me and you are to stay at our manor until term starts, " Narcissa Malfoy explained. She made it obvious that she didn't like that at all.

Lillian nodded. "I assumed as much. Let's go then," she said and grabbed the woman's arm tightly while holding onto her luggage.

The Malfoy matriarch scowled at her, but held her tongue, apparating them away at once.

The still very uncomfortable feeling of being squeezed through a tube caused Lillian to feel nauseous for a few moments after they re-appeared inside a large foyer.

Straightening herself, after taking a couple of deep breaths, she nodded at Narcissa, indicating that she was good to go.

"Dobby," Narcissa called and a scared looking house-elf, wearing a filthy pillowcase as clothing, appeared. "Take our guest's luggage into a guestroom upstairs."

"Dobby wills do so, Lady Malfoy," the elf squeaked, looking at Lillian with wide and frightened eyes, a look which Lillian returned coldly and without empathy.

In her second year, the elf had tried to get her punished by the ministry for underage magic to protect her from what would later take place in Hogwarts. Once her Uncle got his hands on the letter and found out that she was bluffing with her threats of having them...well, his wrath was extremely unpleasant. As was Dobby's second encounter with Lillian.

Her wrath wasn't something to be trifled with either.

Once Dobby disappeared with her trunk, Narcissa led her through the manor and towards another wing. As they got closer to their destination, she started to hear loud voices coming from one of the rooms.

"...children like this! This is a disgrace!" she heard her master shout. "This is what is supposed to succeed you?! This is what will be the pride of our kind, _of the magic world_?"

Once in front of the door, Narcissa knocked, albeit hesitantly, to announce their arrival.

"Come in," the Dark Lord called, his voice still full of irritation and anger.

They entered a room which appeared to be a conference room. Lillian wasn't sure if it had always been like this or if it was transformed into this for the Dark Lord. It was wide, with a long table close to the farthest wall, and rows upon rows of chairs lined up on every side of it. There was also a large portion of the room which was left unfurnished, probably for situations like the one presenting itself right now: the Dark Lord standing in front of a group of her year-mates, all of whom looked pale and scared out of their wits in front of their parents who didn't look much better.

"My Lord, I have Potter with me as per your order," Narcissa said.

"You may leave," the Dark Lord told her without looking at her.

Once the door closed behind her Lillian walked in front of him and dropped to a knee, her gaze on the ground. "My Lord, I arrived as summoned."

"Yes, my apprentice, and I believe you have interesting news," he said and Lillian could almost physically feel his eyes on her. "You may rise. First, I have some other business to tend to and I have something for you to do over the summer, which has to do with the spoiled, useless spawn of my Death Eaters, followers and supporters," her Master ended with disgust as he looked at her year-mates.

She followed his eyes and saw Malfoy, Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, Greengrass and some more. So this wasn't solely about Death Eaters.

"Tell me, apprentice, what do you see when you look at your friends?" the Dark Lord asked her.

At the word ' _friends_ ' glares appeared immediately on the faces of her year-mates, causing her to roll her eyes. "My Lord, I apologize, but none of them is a friend of mine. I don't make ' _friends_ '," She said, making air quotes with her fingers before continuing, "but what I see in them are children who hide in the comfort of their parents' influence, money and blood-status. Mediocre in everything they do, gutless and spineless." She glanced at her Master's unreadable expression as she continued to demean her thunderous looking fellow Slytherins. "They don't work because they don't have to work. If they need or want something, their mommies and daddies get it for them. After their education, they will be useless to our society because they do not have the drive, the intelligence, the knowledge and the talent to actually do the dirty work."

The Dark Lord nodded. "Pretty much my assessment and it pleases me to see that you do not shy away from calling out incompetencies of those standing right in front of you and with whom you will have to spend the majority of the year."

She looked smug and straightened up at his praise. "If I was afraid of them I would be just as useless, my Lord."

"Very well said." He turned back towards the others in the room, all of whom were looking furiously at Lillian, causing him to frown. "Do not glare at my apprentice!" he snapped at them. "No one but you are at fault for being here in front of me! If you hadn't made such lazy fools out of your children then I would have no reason for any of this! I refuse to have any useless, gutless and dimwitted spawn of yours supporting me because _that_ would embarrass me in front of my enemies. I will not have people in key ministry positions who do not know how to do necessary, dirty work." The Dark Lord paused, his eyes moving from one follower to the other, then over their children. "There are of course some of you, who are naturally...below average in terms of intellect." He looked at Crabbe and Goyle – both Senior and Junior – with distaste. "Alas, every leader needs muscle. _But_ that muscle needs to be able to do more than casting a couple of spells." He then looked back at Lillian. "You will spend your summer here and help these children catch up with their schoolwork."

Lillian looked severely disappointed. Instead of learning from her Master, she would have to waste her time tutoring them. "Yes, my Lord," she still answered obediently.

"You will listen to her." he looked at the young Slytherins. "You will do as she says. When your time comes you _will_ be ready. If you are not, then you are useless to me. And you will not like what happens to people who are useless to me. So, in your own interest..." He let the obvious threat hang.

The children all nodded and mumbled several ' _yes, my Lord's_ ', their terror so obvious that Lillian could almost taste it. She loved it.

"You are dismissed." Everyone aside from Lillian left. After the door closed, her Master turned his attention back to her. "What did you find at Gringotts?"

"Apparently my connection goes over several different lines as far back as to the Peverells. I do not know how significant that name is, but I do remember seeing it somewhere." She stopped to think for a moment but shook her head as it just wouldn't come. "Anyway, that is the connection I have with Slytherin, my Lord. It is really thin and blurred with all the different bloodlines coming into the mix, but I assume it was just enough that I could be a parselmouth."

"The Peverells, you say?" the Dark Lord asked, suddenly really interested. "You do not happen to know about the Deathly Hallows?"

She cocked her head to the side. "No, my Lord."

"They are powerful items, gifted to the Peverell brothers by Death itself: The Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone and the Cloak of Invisibility."

At the last item, Lillian perked up visibly, her eyes widened. "My Lord...I do own such a cloak."

"You do? How did you come by it?" he asked her, his focus on her intense, making her fidget a bit.

"I, uh...it was given to me on Christmas during my first year by Dumbledore, I assume...it had a note attached, saying that it belonged to my father and that he gave it to him before you killed him, but it didn't have a name on it." She frowned, doing her best to remember. "It also said that it was kept for my father before the decision to give it back to me was made. As I said, I assume it was Dumbledore," Lillian explained.

"So, he had it for at least eleven years and you have had it for an additional almost four years now. And it still works? Usually, such cloaks lose their worth after just a few years."

Lillian nodded in confirmation. "Yes, my Lord. It works flawlessly."

"May I see it? I will not keep it from you. What I truly want is the Elder Wand, the most powerful wand in existence. Your cloak will be of more use to you than me."

Secretly glad that he did not seem to have any desire of taking her cloak for himself, she nodded. "Of course, my Lord. You don't have to ask. I will show it to you tomorrow."

"Good. One last thing, then you can leave. I will start teaching you non-verbal spell casting. You are good and quick, you seem to have a nice repertoire of spells to use but it will be a huge advantage if you can make use of those silently."

Hiding her giddiness at being able to learn from her Master after all, she nodded her consent. "Of course, my Lord. I look forward to learning from you."

She could almost feel his immense satisfaction at her subordination, which in turn pleased _her_.

"Good. You are dismissed. Ask Narcissa to escort you to my quarters at no later than ten o'clock. Do not forget your cloak. And we will discuss something else then. Something, that Dumbledore might have decided not to tell you."

"Yes, my Lord." With that, she turned around and left.

* * *

Finding her way back to the foyer she originally apparated into with Narcissa Malfoy, she headed upstairs. A sudden pop startled her and she scowled down at the house-elf Dobby. "What?"

"Miss Potter, I is to shows you your room. Please follows me," the elf squeaked and rushed to lead her to her new room, which was next to another which seemed to be occupied by several people if the noise coming out of it was any indicator.

"Who is in there?" She asked Dobby.

Cowering slightly from her glare, the elf answered. "It's young Master Malfoy and friends, Miss."

Nodding and dismissing the elf, she knocked once and without waiting for an answer, opened the door. All occupants – Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy and Daphne – glared at her.

"Look who it is," Pansy said while wrinkling her nose. "The Dark Lord's whore. Did you just come back from spreading your legs nice and wide for him, Potter?"

Lillian just smiled coldly at Pansy. "I dare you to say this again, Pansy, but when the Dark Lord can actually hear it." Pansy paled slightly at the thought but kept glaring at her, as did the rest of the group. "Don't think that I'm looking forward to wasting my time with tutoring you lot. But it is what the Dark Lord demanded of me, so I will do it." She let her eyes wander over each of them. "If any of you even _thinks_ about disrupting the tutoring lessons in any way...well, don't think that I am above showing you my displeasure."

"My father won't allow this," Malfoy growled. "He will talk to the Dark Lord first thing tomorrow morning. He is his most loyal-"

"Your father?" Lillian asked incredulously, then burst into loud laughter. "Really?"

"What are you laughing about?!" Malfoy snapped at her, his cheeks starting to flush. Pansy and Daphne were looking at Lillian suspiciously and Crabbe and Goyle glanced uncomfortably at Draco. Their fathers had apparently talked about the events at the graveyard.

Calming down a bit, Lillian looked at Crabbe and Goyle. "Judging from the way you look at Draco here, I assume you know about it?" Both boys just shifted uncomfortably.

"Know what?" Malfoy asked, looking at Crabbe and Goyle. "What's she talking about?"

"I'm talking about the way I humiliated your father in a duel, Draco." She answered softly, taking immense pleasure in cutting into Draco's hero-worship of his daddy. "The Dark Lord was definitely none too pleased. It was after he saw how a fourteen-year-old girl humiliated one of his most devoted Death Eaters that he decided for me to become his apprentice."

"You are lying," Daphne said, a haughty look on her face. "There's no way you could defeat a grown man, let alone humiliate one."

"Ask Draco's daddy and see how he answers. Ask the Dark Lord for all I care. I am surprised he didn't speak of it, just to taunt your father, Draco. Your father probably begged the Dark Lord to be spared of this humiliation in front of his family," Lillian said. "But enough of this." She ended the discussion with a swipe of her hand. "Tomorrow after lunch, first session. You will all be there." She was about to turn around and leave when Pansy's voice stopped her.

"And why should we?" The pug-faced girl glared at her.

"Because I will not be punished by the Dark Lord for your insolence. And if that should come to pass, then, what I will do to you and what the Dark Lord would do to your family would make my punishment look like child's play. Don't think that I have no experience in using an Unforgivable."

Without waiting for a reaction, she retreated to her room.

* * *

This time, after knocking, she waited. But it wasn't just any door; it was the door leading to her Master's private quarters.

"Enter," came the answer from inside and so she opened the door and entered.

Dropping to a knee, she greeted her Dark Lord. "My Lord."

"You may rise. I assume you have your cloak with you, as I requested?"

"Yes, my Lord. I also brought your diary. I imagined you would want it back to find a safer location than the bottom of my trunk," she said as she handed him the diary.

Taking it from her, he stroked its cover gently, looking at it almost fondly. "Indeed, I would. I have to thank you for keeping it safe, apprentice. This is a particularly precious item to me. You shall be rewarded in good time."

Awfully pleased with herself, Lillian gave a bow in acknowledgement to the Dark Lord's praise. "Thank you, my Lord. It was my pleasure."

"Now, let me see this cloak of yours." He put his diary away for now and looked at her expectantly.

She handed him the neatly folded cloak and stepped back, giving him a bit of room.

He held it in his hands, stroking the material, muttering a few things she didn't catch. Finally, he donned it on, looking pleased with how perfectly he vanished from sight as he looked into a mirror.

Taking it off, he handed it back to her. "You definitely own a Deathly Hallow. Your average invisibility cloak loses its ability after only a few years, but this is different. The material alone feels very different. And the fact that, after at least 14 years, it still works this perfectly just gives further credence to that assumption." He had a faraway look in his eyes. "The Elder Wand has to be real then...I just need to find it..." Her Master then looked back at her. "Now to the matter of what I wanted to talk to you about." He motioned for her to sit down on a chair as he did. After they were both seated, he continued. "The night I tried to kill you. The reason was a prophecy I was told parts of. Those parts fit you and another infant. I had to choose and the choice fell onto you."

Not sure what kind of reaction was expected of her, she just nodded.

"Understood, my Lord."

He looked quite pleased with her reaction. She assumed it was because he wouldn't have to deal with an angry or sad or confused apprentice.

Her Master continued. "I am curious about what exactly that prophecy entails. I will try to gain access to the Department of Mysteries. When we have found the right time and a way to attack the ministry, I want you with me."

Lillian couldn't hide her excitement. "Of course, my Lord! I would be honoured."

"By then you should have your own Death Eater uniform, though with slight differences. You are, after all, no mere foot soldier. You are being groomed to become my right hand."

Her eyes were wide and her chest was swelling with pride. "I... thank you, my Lord. I promise I will become what you expect of me."

"I am sure of it," he said, an approving look on his face. She was sure it was because of her eagerness. "Young Draco came by about an hour earlier, asking about a duel in a graveyard," he said, changing the topic quite abruptly.

"What did you tell him, my Lord?" She asked him.

His answer was short and to the point. "The truth."

"How did he take it?" Lillian pressed on.

"As you would expect, my dear apprentice. I assume you had a reason?"

Lillian nodded. "I hoped he would see that I was not one to be trifled with – without me having to crucio him in his own home."

"Are they causing you trouble already?"

"No, my Lord." She answered hastily. "This is nothing I can't handle. If they get too insolent, then I won't hold back on any punishment."

He nodded in approval. "Good. This will be all then. You are dismissed."

Bowing, she turned and left for the door when someone knocked. Looking at her Master, who gave a single nod, she opened the door – only to be surprised by her Head of House, Severus Snape.

He looked at her, his expression is unreadable. "Potter."

"Professor."

Without another word or look, they both went on their ways.

* * *

Still kind of distracted by what it could mean that her Potions Professor and Head of House saw her leaving the Dark Lord's room, she entered the one provided for her tutoring sessions. She saw the same group of year mates from yesterday and almost all of them glared at her. It was getting old real quick.

Standing in front of them, she gave the group a once over, mentally deciding who of them could be worth her effort and who couldn't.

"You all know why you are here, who I am and why _I_ am here, so there's no need for any introductions or speeches."

"A bloody slag is who you are..." Pansy Parkinson muttered under her breath.

Lillian did hear it however and gave Pansy her iciest look. "Pansy, come forward."

The Parkinson heiress did as told, an expression of superiority firmly etched onto her features. "Yes?" she asked Lillian with a smirk.

"You seem to think that I need to whore myself out to the Dark Lord to be worthy of his attention. Among other things," Lillian said.

"You make it sound as if I am wrong."

Ignoring Pansy's interruption, she continued. "I say, you need to get it out of your system. A duel. Now."

Pansy looked gleeful, probably hoping to put Lillian in her place.

They both got into position, the necessary paces apart from each other. Lillian purposefully remained lax as they readied their wands and gave a short bow. Pansy took the chance and immediately cast a _Cruciatus_ at her. For a second Lillian was worried and wondered if she made a mistake, but the pain of the curse went as quickly as it came.

She blinked and looked at Pansy who stared at her wand in confusion. Then, Lillian laughed, humorlessly.

"Lesson number one." She began, raising her wand with a cruel grin. "If you want to cast an Unforgivable you have to _mean it_! _Crucio_!"

Pansy writhed in agony and screamed as all her nerves burned in white-hot pain.

Lillian held it for another few seconds, enjoying the power she held over another human being until Pansy begged her to stop and then she did.

Pansy whimpered on the floor and her body spasmed in the aftershocks. Lillian just looked at her, no empathy on her face, only an expression of utter elation. "Someone help her up already," she finally said and a shocked and shaking Daphne scrambled to gather her friend up with Tracy Davies.

"Now, to just have any doubts about why _I_ am the Dark Lord's apprentice removed once and for all, let's ask Draco what the result of his talk with the Dark Lord was. Draco?" She grinned at him.

He glared at her, his fists clenching in his lap. "You were right," he clenched out between his teeth.

"Indeed. I was right. I beat your father in a duel." She let that settle for a moment, smirking smugly. "Now, I want to see what you lot know and don't know. I prepared a test for all of you before I went to bed. You have an hour."

With that, she handed the parchments out and hoped that they were smarter than she gave them credit for.

She really could think of a lot of better ways to spend her time during her summer than tutoring spoiled pure blood brats. There were a couple of moments when she thought this might be some sort of punishment, but, in reality, she knew that it somehow showed how her Master thought she had enough talent and intellect to make a difference here.

And then there was Snape. Was he a Death Eater? If so, then where was he when the Dark Lord returned? Was he a spy? Where were his loyalties? Obviously, he came to see the Dark Lord, so he knew about him.

She was confused. She had to talk with her Master about this. If Snape would talk to Dumbledore about her being here and leaving the Dark Lord's room...

She didn't want to think about it.


	3. Summer Part 2

Lillian was lounging lazily in one of the comfortable chairs in the Malfoy's vast library, reading one of their many books about dark arts. The things she found in the book were so much more interesting and insightful than the, in comparison, really superficial literature she had read in Hogwarts.

She found it fascinating just how deeply into a person's mind and body magic – especially dark magic – could reach. From blood magic to mind magic, the possibilities to wreak havoc on someone were absolutely endless.

Lillian was also interested in becoming an Animagus. She was sure that it could be useful for her upcoming spying jobs for her Master.

At least she hoped that there would be jobs for her soon.

As she kept on reading, she heard someone enter the library, the soft clicking of dress shoes on the floor giving her an implication of who it could be. Glancing over the top of the book she was holding, she saw it was young Malfoy, his eyes not on her face, but on her soft thighs, displayed as the hem of her summer dress had ridden up a bit.

"As flattering as it is, Draco, please refrain from staring at my legs so blatantly. It makes me uncomfortable."

Blushing, Draco cleared his throat. "I was sent to ask you if you had finished correcting our…exams."

"I have indeed," Lillian answered, her gaze still locked on the book. She finished reading a page and leafed lazily to the next.

"And when are you going to tell us how we did?"

Slightly irritated, Lillian took a small piece of parchment from the table next to her chair to place it in the book, marking the page she was at. "During your next lesson, obviously. I assume you didn't really come here to ask me foolish questions?"

"Look, Potter," Draco began, his voice a low growl. "I don't trust you. I don't know what you think you are doing, but you aren't one of us, and definitely not worthy to be the Dark Lord's apprentice." He paused his rant, just for a moment, while Lillian did her best to look as uninterested in and unimpressed by his little speech. "I don't like the way you walk around in our home like you own the place," Draco went on with a furious expression. "I don't like how you disrespect us in our own home, I don't like that _you_ of all people are supposed to tutor _us_! I want you to leave and pretend you never were here, to begin with."

A small smile toying at her lips, Lillian crossed one leg over the other as she made herself comfortable on the chair, directly staring at his eyes. "Do you think that _you_ should be his apprentice, Draco? Are you _jealous_ of me?" His unwaveringly silent and furious glare was answer enough for her, so she let out a chuckle. "Draco…do you know what the difference between you and me is?"

He resumed his silence, his glare fixed on her.

Lillian tapped the side of her head with a finger. "It's the brains. I am smarter than you and your whole entourage put together. But you are not stupid, you know." She gave him a calculating look. "I don't understand how _you_ don't understand that you actually could be at least above average at, well, _everything_. I assume you simply are lazy on top of being spoiled and arrogant for no reason whatsoever."

"It's fascinating how you still manage to insult a person while giving them compliments."

Lillian let out a short laugh, before giving him a small, mocking smile. "I didn't compliment you, Draco. Insult you? Yes. Compliment you? No. You'd have to be quite _exceptional_ at something for me to compliment you. Which, to be frank, you are not." She stretched her back against the chair, enjoying the satisfying pops. Then she got up to her feet and took the book with her. "I'll have to go and see our Master now. After I've finished this book I'll place it back."

She left the room, not glancing back at Draco as she exited the library, and went back to the foyer before making her way to the Dark Lord's quarters. She passed Daphne, a girl about whom she wasn't too sure what to think of. As far as she knew, the Greengrass family wasn't as radical about blood purity as the Malfoys, Crabbes and Goyles were, not even like the Parkinsons who were blood purists but not as vocal and radical as the aforementioned trio of families. So, she wondered what Daphne was doing here and what her family's alignment with the Dark Lord was.

Upon reaching her destination she pulled herself back from her thoughts before knocking on the door.

"Come in." The deep and commanding voice of the Dark Lord answered.

Opening the door, she was startled to see both the head of her house and her Master waiting for her.

"Enter, my dear apprentice," he commanded her, so she entered.

Once inside she marched up to the Dark Lord and, not before giving Snape a quick glance, kneeled in front of him. "My Lord."

"Rise."

Again, glancing at Snape, she saw him look at her impassively, but she could almost feel his confusion radiating off of him. Raising her chin defiantly, she returned her attention back to her Dark Lord, focusing solely on him now.

"I assume you are confused about why Severus is here."

"Yes, my Lord."

"He is our spy. He is close enough to Dumbledore and his Light to gather important information for us. He also told us that, despite you selling our cover story quite impressively, Dumbledore has reformed his Order of the Phoenix."

Taking all the information in, she cast yet another glance at her Professor, her eyes narrowed this time. "I don't want to presume anything, my Lord, but how can you be sure that he is not double-crossing you?"

Snape stiffened slightly next to them but the Dark Lord gave her a big smile, almost looking proud. "A very wise question, Lillian." She perked up at that, her Master addressing her with her first name for the first time. "Of course, one can never be sure. Severus here is a very accomplished spy, so good in fact that no one, not even me, can be sure of his alliance. Isn't it so, my old friend?"

Her Professor, for the first time directly spoken to since she joined them, nodded in assent. "Indeed, my Lord."

"Then how can we be sure that you won't let me being here slip to Dumbledore and his little followers?" She asked Snape, foregoing any decorum usually necessary when addressing one of her teachers.

"Because the Dark Lord threatened to kill me, should he ever find out that I did so," he drawled, his gaze piercing her.

Satisfied with the answer, she nodded. "I can accept this for now. Thank you, my Lord, for taking care of this."

"You are quite welcome, apprentice. Now tell me, how did the children fare with your exam?"

"It was mixed, really. Greengrass doesn't do badly in school but she can be much better, as her exam showed. Malfoy, who is below average in school,l can also be much better. I don't understand how they do as poorly in school as they do, in comparison to the marks they got in my exam." She shrugged her shoulders. "It's not like I made it easy. Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson were as I expected. Very poor and not of much use to your future endeavours, if I may say so, my Lord."

"Severus, how would you rate the difficulty of Lillian's exam?" the Dark Lord asked the Professor.

"It was very well thought out. The questions ranged from first- to fourth-year material and the difficulty should indeed have been challenging enough for the students."

"Very well. I will have a talk with at least Greengrass and Malfoy about their performances. You may leave for now. Should your presence be required again I will call upon you."

Her Master dismissed the dour potions-master, then he returned his attention back to her. "What is this book you are carrying, my dear apprentice?" He asked her, genuine curiosity lacing his voice.

Lillian couldn't help the excitement colouring her voice. "It is about the differences and varieties of the Dark Arts, like blood and mind magic, my Lord. I find them so fascinating!"

"Ah." The Dark Lord nodded in approval. "Yes, blood magic is indeed a fascinating branch, especially when it goes into sacrificial blood magic rituals. It pleases me to see that you keep widening your horizon. Knowledge is what grants the most power, so your thirst for it is something that will help you keep growing and getting stronger until you will seem undefeatable to others. Never waver in the face of knowledge, no matter how disturbing that knowledge might be."

"Yes, my Lord." She immediately made a mental list of more topics to research.

"Good." He motioned for her to sit on a chair at the large table, which she did. "Now, onto your first lesson for silent spell-casting."

Her eyes widening slightly at the prospect of being taught by none other than Tom Marvolo Riddle. She leaned forward ever so slightly and focused her whole attention on the powerful man before her.

"It is not something that is hard to learn. In the end, accidental magic can be classified as silent spell-casting, for it works in similar ways. Accidental magic is triggered by an overwhelming wish for something to happen."

"Like running away from someone, wishing to be far away from them and then teleporting yourself away?" Lillian asked into the lull during her Master's explanation.

"Indeed." He eyed her curiously, making her fidget in her seat. "Silent spell-casting works very similarly. Instead of loudly yelling the incantation, imagine screaming it inside your head. While accidental magic relies on focusing on a general thing to happen, silent spell-casting focuses on a specific spell you want to cast. Try it."

He silently conjured a dummy for her in the middle of the room, causing Lillian to awe at how effortlessly he conjured something out of nothing. She got up and focused on a blasting spell with all the intensity she could muster, aiming her wand at the dummy. While she did manage cast it, it was significantly weaker than the usual power she could pour into it.

Her Master still looked pleased enough. "Well done. This would have earned you five points for your house." He chuckled lightly. "It was obviously weaker than what you are usually capable off, but you did bend the dummy's arm. Now, you need to manage to pour your usual power into your silent spells. All you have to do is to reach a point where you stop feeling the difference between silent and vocal spell-casting. Try it as often as you can until you reach that point. I expect you to spend at least one hour each day during this week to train and then I will see you again to examine your process."

She felt severely disappointed that this was all there was to her time being trained by the Dark Lord himself but nodded nonetheless. "I will, my Lord."

Her Master looked amused. "You look upset, Lillian. Why would that be?"

Blushing furiously, she tried to avoid his gaze. "I, uh, thought that my private lessons with you would be…longer. I can't help but feel…disappointed, I guess, that this was all there was to these private lessons."

Laughing loudly, he went up to her, cupping her cheek and causing her eyes to widen. Her face was heating up rapidly once more, just as she was recovering from her first blush. She stammered. "M-my Lord?".

"My dear apprentice," the Dark Lord began. "I have to admit that it still baffles me that _you_ , Lillian Potter, The-Girl-Who-Lived, are here with me and are practically begging me to teach you my darkest pieces of knowledge. I promise you that I will teach you all I can, but for now, you have to be patient."

"I apologize, my Lord," she whispered as she stared into his dark eyes, unable to look elsewhere.

"Don't. I am most content with your devotion to me and your submissive nature towards me and me alone. I can practically loyalty, your desire to please me, every time I look at you."

He traced his thumb across her soft and slightly parted lips.

"My Lord…do you…want me?" she asked clumsily, partially afraid that her assessment of his behaviour was completely off and partially afraid that she was right.

"I can't help but notice that you are growing into a beautiful woman, apprentice. But I know that you are still scarred because of those filthy muggles." He spat out the last word. "How would you feel if I were to want you?" He suddenly asked her, catching her completely off guard.

"I…I don't know." She muttered honestly. "On one hand…I'd be honoured. On the other…I don't know if I could please you…because…" She shrugged helplessly.

"Lillian." His voice was firm and commanding, calling upon her attention. "I do want us to join our bloodlines in a marital union," he stated bluntly.

Lillian felt the blood drain from her face almost immediately and short moments later, she suddenly felt hot. " _Me_?" she squeaked out. "Really?"

"Yes, of course." He looked at her with his head cocked in amusement. "We both share the ancient blood of Salazar Slytherin, which should not be sullied by joining with other, lesser bloodlines. You are also fairly pleasant to the eye. As am I, if I may be so blunt."

She couldn't help the small and demure smile forming on her lips at the compliment she received from the Dark Lord. He basically called her pretty! Maybe even beautiful! "Thank you, my Lord."

"So, what do you say?" he asked her, though she knew he was expecting a certain answer.

"Whatever it is you want of me, my Lord, I am willing to give." She looked up at him, her gaze firm and back straight, showcasing her utter willingness of becoming what he wanted her to be.

A pleased grin formed on his face as he again cupped the side of her face, causing her to lean her head ever so slightly against his hand, her eyes full of utter devotion for him. "You and I together, we will both destroy Dumbledore and bring the magical world back to its glory days." Her face formed a sadistic grin at the mention of destruction, which he returned with an approving smirk of his own. "I give you one year to heal and free yourself of what your muggle relatives did to you. Then I will expect you to be ready for us to further our relationship from master and apprentice to a marital one."

"How…?"

"I assume a mind healer would be the appropriate route to take. I can search and provide you with the best. You can also start to try and explore yourself. Replace the pain you felt at intimate touches with experiences of pleasure in your private time." He graced a hand lightly over her exposed collarbone, causing her to gasp slightly. Removing his hand with a pleased grin, he led her towards the door with a hand on her lower back. "Now go. You have children to teach and your own tasks to master."

"Y-yes, my Lord. Thank you, for…I-I promise, I will be ready." She stuttered and stumbled over her words, but her message was clear all the same. At least she hoped so.

"I know you will," the Dark Lord told her, then closed the door behind her.

* * *

Leaving her room after putting away the book and taking the corrected exams with her, Lillian was still distracted from her conversation with her Master. The most powerful wizard to ever walk the face of Earth found her desirable enough to want to marry her! Her mind was still reeling every time that thought came to the front and her skin was still tingling from his touches and caresses. She felt a slight damp heat between her legs and she wondered if this was how it was supposed to feel after a man touched her in such an intimate manner.

Just last summer she remembered how dirty she felt every time Vernon would lay his filthy, meaty and sweaty hands on her bare skin, how she felt the bile rising in her throat every time he entered her, the painfully burning sensation between her legs and his stinking breath coming out in pants.

What she felt now though was so foreign, so unfamiliar, but so pleasant. She wondered how different it really would be when the Dark Lord claimed her as his – not just as his apprentice, not just as his weapon, but as his permanent companion, as his partner in bed and as his wife. She wondered if his touches could make her forget about the humiliation and degradation she suffered under the Dursley's roof and under Vernon's fat body.

Releasing a shaky breath, she tried to calm herself as she entered the room for her tutoring sessions. Putting on her _I-am-better-than-every-single-one-of-you-face_ , she glanced around and saw everyone present.

"I apologize for my lateness," she began, glancing at the clock and seeing that she was indeed fifteen minutes late. "I had a private session with our Master and got caught up in a conversation with him." She walked up to every desk and handed the exams to her 'students'. "With some, I was genuinely surprised at how well you did. With others, you did just as poorly as I expected." She returned to her desk and jumped up to sit on it. "Now, before we start actual tutoring sessions, I want to ask all of you one question that has been bugging me the whole time I was going through your exams." Giving each of them a piercing look, she spoke. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you bellends?!"

She glared at them, her frustration clear as day. "You idiots have such potential to be great personalities in our future! You have money and influential parents! You have the advantage of your bloodlines! But you don't use your _heads_!" Her piercing green eyes locked on Daphne. "Greengrass is the only one I allow being an exception. She did quite well in the exam and is just above average in school as far as I could tell. Am I wrong?" she asked the blonde.

"Uh, no," the bewildered Greengrass heiress answered.

"You can _still_ be so much better. You can be under the top five of every class if you would just put some effort into it! Why did you try so hard on this meaningless exam?" She gestured with her hand at the parchments lying in front of the children. "All it is good for is to give me an idea about where to put the most emphasis during this summer!"

Turning towards Draco, she glared at him too. "The same goes for you. Get off your arse, stop milking the comfort your parents provide you with and become more than this spoiled, annoying toddler you seem so intent on being." Turning her attention to the others, she calmed down a bit, almost feeling bored. "Theodore, Tracey, Blaise…you results were mediocre here as they usually are in Hogwarts. I'm not sure what to expect in the future of you. Show me and our Lord that you can have a place in our future. Crabbe, Goyle…well, muscle is always needed I guess." The two gorillas just grunted and smirked stupidly at each other, flexing their biceps and causing her to roll her eyes in the process. "Now, my favourite part…Pansy." She smiled sweetly at the girl, causing her to scowl at her. "I know you don't like me. You can be sure that I feel sick if you are even remotely in my proximity and I have to fight the urge to just kill you on the spot every single time I see you." She kept smiling, even as Pansy paled at that statement. "But, alas, me being the most loyal servant and apprentice to the Dark Lord, I heed his wishes with the utmost dedication he expects of me. That means to teach every single one of you." Standing up, she slowly made her way towards Pansy, stopping just in front of the girl, glaring down at her, her voice low and dangerous. "My Master expects me to get results in everything I do. If I don't show results for my private sessions with him, I will get punished. If I don't show results here – meaning you not putting in the effort necessary during these sessions and filling the emptiness in your head with something actually useful – I will get punished. If you give one more stupid answer to any of my questions – and I don't care if it is during tutoring sessions or on exams I make for you –I will crucio you until you beg me to kill you. If I get punished because you fail in any class at all this year, I will dismember you and keep you alive so you can watch as the beasts in the Forbidden Forest feed on your body parts. I will not get punished because of your insolence. I promise you that."

"You are sick," Pansy muttered.

The fear Pansy was feeling was clear on her face, so Lillian just gave her a manic grin.

Lillian secretly hoped the Parkinson heiress would not curb her insolence – just so she would have a reason to make her threats reality.

* * *

It was getting late at night and Lillian wasn't sure if what she was about to do was a good idea. She was confused in so many ways, the events earlier in the day causing her to lose her cool in a manner she was vastly unfamiliar with.

She was about to tread in even more unfamiliar territory as she was about to do something she never ever did before. Lillian Potter, a self-proclaimed sadist, a still freshly made murderer at fourteen, the apprentice of one of the – if not _the_ – most dangerous and powerful dark wizard in the history of Great Britain, was about to ask someone for advice.

So, there she was, pacing back and forth in the garden of Malfoy Manor. She was waiting and hoping that the person would come, but also hoping that the person would just ignore her message.

After a few more moments of waiting she heard muffled steps in the grass and turned around, half relieved and half nervous to see Lady Malfoy advancing towards her.

"Potter." Her voice was full of annoyance but also betrayed a hint of curiosity. "What is so important that you had to call me here this late into the evening?"

"I'm sorry for any inconvenience, Mrs Malfoy, but I didn't know who else to talk to," Lillian began. "I…have a problem with something I am vastly inexperienced in…or at least, the only experiences I ever had were…" She stopped, taking a deep breath, avoiding the Malfoy matriarch's curious eyes. "They were…extremely…unpleasant." _And painful_. _And humiliating_. _And disgusting_. _And traumatizing_. _And scarring_. "Today, though, I was…I experienced something…more pleasant than I had been used to. Just a hint of how it could be. I was approached with…well, pretty much a proposal I suppose." She muttered softly and had to fight hard to fight the grin that threatened to break through.

"A proposal? As in, a marriage proposal? From whom, if I may ask?" Narcissa sounded genuinely surprised and curious.

Lillian waved a dismissive hand at her. "You will know when the time comes. Anyway, I accepted, but it won't be official until I am…well, _ready_. And I don't know _how_. I want to be able to please him and…you are the only woman here I feel I can turn to with this, no matter how uncomfortable I am with talking about this."

Understanding slowly spread across Mrs Malfoy's features, the sad eyes making Lillian want to gauge them out. "Lillian...have you been…raped?"

Lillian raised her chin in defiance and took on a haughty tone. "I don't want anyone's pity. All I need is advice on how to…teach myself the more pleasurable aspects of having breasts and a vagina."

Mrs Malfoy smiled in good humour; an expression Lillian had never seen on that woman's face – not that she had seen much of her, to begin with. "Child, there is no textbook or such things for exploring your body," Lady Malfoy said gently. "I can't imagine how uncomfortable you must feel at the thought of sexual things, considering what you must have experienced before." She placed a hand on Lillian's shoulder, surprising her. "What you need first and foremost is a mind-healer. Someone to really talk to, share these things with, finding closure for what you went through."

Lillian huffed in annoyance. "He said that he would find me the best…but I don't really want to talk about it."

"It can only help." Narcissa shrugged delicately. "But still, if you feel excited for whatever reason, then don't hesitate to explore your body. Find out what pleases you most. But go slow and stop when you feel uncomfortable. Be gentle and understanding with yourself."

"I suppose…" Lillian muttered, not entirely pleased with the conversation. Very much was vague and even more was identical with what her Master had told her. "Thank you for your time, Mrs Malfoy. And I assume I don't need to press just how badly I want this talk to be private and to only remain between us?"

"Of course. My lips are sealed." Lady Malfoy gave a small smirk. "And you are quite welcome."


	4. Summer Part 3

The next few weeks passed in a blur for Lillian. She finally had managed to sort out Pansy's attitude with that bit of fear tactics – which were not exactly empty threats – and she also managed to cast fully powered silent spells just halfway into the deadline her Master had set upon her.

After she showcased her new skills to him, he gently touched her bare arm, sending shivers all over her body and making her feel marked and burned in the best ways possible.

The sensations he made her feel were unlike anything she ever imagined. She never even dreamt that any man would ever touch her the way he did, that any man would give her those beautifully tingling sensations. After six years of pain and disgust, she actually had resigned to her body only ever feeling those kinds of things after being touched.

Her Master showed yet again how much better he was than any other man she ever got to know.

She was sitting on a cushioned bench outside in Malfoy Manor's vast garden, softly humming to herself as she read about poisons and their effects on the human body. Currently, Lillian was deep into a poison that would start melting a person's intestines and worked _very_ slowly. When it would be discovered what was happening inside the victim's body, it usually was already too late and adding pain-relieving potions would cause the poison to react very violently.

It really was a very insidious concoction and Lillian was chuckling in amusement as she read about it.

"That is an…interesting piece of literature you are reading, Potter," a low drawl drew her attention away from the book.

Sitting up and pulling the hem of her dress further down to cover most of her thighs, she looked at Severus Snape, his face expressionless. "I do find it most fascinating what the human mind is capable of coming up with just to cause another person the most excruciating kinds of pain," Lillian said before smiling at her Professor. She did like him. His class was very interesting – her favourite, really – and she did agree with his attitude. No one should have to have the patience to be nice and understanding to a bunch of airheads who weren't capable of following basic instructions that were right in front of their noses.

But, since she knew that he was aware of her relationship with the champion of darkness, she was a lot warier of him now.

Yes, the Dark Lord's death threat hung over him like the sword of Damocles itself, but still, her trust had been vastly reduced.

She never trusted anyone ever fully. There were people she felt were worthy of more of her attention than others, resulting in her opening up to them just a little bit – like her Professor. But she never ever would trust anyone fully.

At least not anyone other than her Dark Lord.

Patting the spot next to her, she invited Snape to join her. "What brings you here today, Professor?"

"I wanted to talk to you about your…affiliation."

"I see." She stiffened ever so slightly. "And what is it that made you feel that there was anything to talk about?"

"Potter…Lillian." He began, his hard and cool mask slipping away, showing her a man who looked dead tired. "All I want to know is…why? I agree with a lot of the things the Dark Lord does and wants to achieve…but…I loved your mother," he finally ground out with a lot of effort, causing her eyes to go wide and her lips twitch in amusement. "And he killed her. He is the reason that you are an orphan. So, I just want to understand why you feel so…loyal to him because I know that day estranged me from his revolution." Lillian narrowed her eyes at that last statement, causing him to roll his eyes at her. "He is well aware of that fact, for I begged him to spare Lily."

"Hm." She gave him a narrow-eyed, sideways glance. "I will accept that for now, but I will watch you very closely. My Master has no use of people who are not completely devoted to his cause."

Crossing one leg over the other, baring a soft and creamy thigh in the process, she bobbed a bare foot up and down while thinking about a satisfying answer for him.

Finally deciding on a few half-truths, she began to speak without looking at the Potions Master. "Before I begin, Professor, I want you to swear upon your magic that nothing I will tell you will reach someone else's ears. I won't tell you everything. The only one who knows everything is my Master and that was because he took what he wanted to know about me. I don't mind though, for I am completely his. I am his most loyal servant and his apprentice – he has the right to know everything there is about me," she finished with a fond smile before looking at Snape expectantly.

"Fine," Snape relented. Raising his wand, he started to abide by her wish. "I, Severus Snape, swear upon my magic that nothing Lillian Rose Potter tells me will be revealed to another person should she not expressly say so. So mote it be." Golden hot wires spread from his wand to his arm and up to his chest, then settled right over his heart before slowly fizzling away.

"Thank you." She gazed ahead, her eyes unfocused as she decided how to begin. "I assume you are aware that, after I became an orphan, Dumbledore put me into the care of my relatives. How much do you know about my life there?"

"Nothing," he answered carefully.

"Figures." Lillian chuckled humorlessly. "Until I began muggle school I thought my name was 'girl' because they never used my name. Vernon would beat me senseless because I excelled in school while his walrus of a son had poor marks in every class. I had collected countless broken bones over the years and only thanks to my magical gift can I tell you this at all and _that_ isn't half of what I had to endure. I never had a childhood and never will have one."

Snape was speechless, something Lillian took note of with quite a bit of satisfaction.

"I became who I am now because I needed to survive," she continued. "I know I am sadistic, cruel, vindictive, ruthless and coldhearted. Probably even more than just those things. But I embrace it. I can hurt people without remorse because I was hurt without remorse." She gave him a calculating look. "If I am honest, there are only two people in this world I feel any affection for. The first person is my Dark Lord. He is so immensely powerful, his very presence…it feels like it is covering me like a warm blanket every time I am near him," Lillian whispered, her voice full of wonder at what her Master could make her feel. She could only guess Snape's expression because she averted her eyes from him and gazed at some unseen spot far away from where they were sitting.

After a few moments of silence, she returned her attention back to her Head of House, a rare but soft and kind smile on her face. "The second person is you, Professor." She chuckled at the surprised look on Snape's face. "I really admire your skill. I am saddened that you do not seem to have the opportunity to really profit from it, but I hope and wish for you that, after we have won this war, my Master will give you that opportunity. I will certainly talk to him about it."

"I…thank you, Lillian," Snape answered, slightly awkwardly.

"You are quite welcome. I can actually understand why you are always so grumpy during class. I feel like tearing out my own hair at the stupidity of some of your students." She chuckled lightly, before becoming serious and cold. "I really enjoy your classes, Professor. I greatly admire your skills and can only hope to one day become half as good at brewing potions as you are. I even enjoyed this little chat we had, though I know and even understand that you feel sick, disturbed and heartbroken at what Lily's baby girl has turned into."

"I'm not-" He began, but Lillian interrupted him with her airy laughter.

"Don't worry. I don't mind if you are disturbed by who and what I am. Or, to be more precise, _I don't care_. I love who I am and the only person whose opinion means anything at all to me is the Dark Lord himself – and he certainly approves." Sighing contently, she leaned back on the bench, closing her eyes. "Anyways…what I wanted to say is that I hope that my trust in you, even though it isn't close to what it was before you saw me with my Master, is well placed. I would actually be saddened if we had to kill you, Professor. So, please, if nothing else, don't betray me to Dumbledore."

"Don't worry," the Potions Master answered dryly. "As empty as my life is, I still value it."

"I'm glad you do." She was about to stand up from the bench before a slow smirk appeared on her face as a thought crossed her mind. "Professor…despite all of my, in your opinion at least, distasteful qualities…how do you like me? In all honesty. I promise I won't cry or tell anyone."

His hesitation made her curious and she was most eager for his answer. "You are…the last memory of the only person I ever loved," he said and it was clear how difficult saying just those few words were for him. "It doesn't matter that you have nothing of her kindheartedness…you still are a piece of Lily and I will protect this piece until my dying breath."

Not really expecting that, she actually felt just a bit moved by his words, even if his motives weren't about her at all, but about the memory of her dead mother. "I appreciate that, Professor." She really did. "By the way…did you know that I actually begged the Headmaster to stop making me go back to the Dursleys? He knew everything they were doing to me there...and I mean _everything_. The things I told you about are mere child's play compared to the worst Vernon put me through, something Dumbledore is very aware of…and yet, he still made me go back every single year. I thought you ought to know this, just in case you felt even a hint of loyalty towards that old piece of filth."

The utter shock on her Professor's face was everything she hoped for. It was even more than that. He didn't say a word, so Lillian slowly got up from the bench and smoothed out her dress. Then, after picking up the book, she started to leave the garden.

She was already halfway on her way back into the Manor when Snape called out to her, making her stop in her tracks. "Did you…did you kill Diggory?"

She smiled coldly and her smile got wider when she very literally saw the colour drain from his face. "I won't have to lie if you don't ask."

He nodded, before letting his head drop into his hands.

Lillian kept on smiling on her way inside, even when she still managed to catch his apologies to her mother.

* * *

Once the letters for the students had arrived, a day to go to Diagon Alley was set. It was an unusually large group that was led to the fireplace by the two elder Malfoys, but it wasn't every day that Lord Voldemort demanded for the children of all of his silent supporters and public followers to be tutored. It also wasn't every day that the tutor was The-Girl-Who-Lived, who was standing a few paces away from the large group, looking rather bored as she waited for her turn to come.

"Potter," Lucius called her with barely held back disdain, his pride obviously still wounded because of their now infamous duel in the graveyard after the Dark Lord's resurrection. "Do you know how to floo?"

"Yes," she answered in a bored tone and threw a small pinch of the powder into the fireplace before calling her destination as she stepped in.

Gracefully stepping out, she took in her surroundings, a look of distaste on her face at the guests drinking and dining in the Leaky Cauldron.

She didn't wait for the rest to arrive, but, as she was about to leave and get her shopping done by herself, a hand reached out and held onto her arm. Slowly turning around with a thundering look on her face, she growled at Draco. "Let go of my arm before I remove yours from your body, Malfoy."

"Alright." He held his arms up in surrender, a look of bewilderment on his face at her almost violent reaction over such a simple thing. "I just wanted to ask you where you are going. We are supposed to stay together."

"I prefer to do my business on my own."

"Be that as it may, Lillian, we have direct orders to all stay together." Narcissa's voice came from behind her and Lillian's shoulders sagged.

"Fine."

Hanging slightly behind the group, Lillian went through a mental list of things she wanted to get for herself, and, after she was done, she walked up to the elder Malfoys. "I was wondering if we could take a detour to Knockturn Alley after we have finished our business here."

"And why would you want to go to Knockturn Alley?" Lucius asked, not looking at her, but she felt the eyes of everyone else on her.

"If you lot are so eager to eavesdrop, you need to come closer because I can't say the following things out loud." At least some of the children had the good grace to blush, but they huddled in closer nevertheless, obviously curious about what she would want to buy in Knockturn Alley, considering how notorious it was for its dark shops.

"I've read some of your books about Dark and Black Arts and blood magic has really caught my eye. There are some rituals I am eager to try and _he_ has given me permission and said that _he_ would help and watch over me during the rituals."

She saw most of the children blanch at her explanation, as did Narcissa, but Lucius remained unmoved. "Very well."

"Thank you." Though she still didn't like him and wondered if she ever would, she thought it still good manners to at least be grateful that he would take the time for a small detour for her.

Slowing her steps again, she returned to wearing her bored look. They wandered from one mundane store to the other, with not even the books in Flourish and Blotts tickling her fancy.

After almost two hours, they were finally done with their school purchases and made their way back into Knockturn Alley. As they were walking, Lillian could barely contain her excitement. She was sure she was looking the liveliest anyone had ever seen her.

"Okay, I can't help myself. Just what is this ritual you want to do and what exactly do you need?" Daphne asked her, looking half amused and half disturbed at Lillian's wide and happy grin.

"Well, at first I wanted to do something sacrificial, but my Master said that such rituals are still very far away from my experience level, so I had to relent with trying out blood manipulation. I still obviously need to find an unwilling subject to experiment on," she answered with a frown before she grinned maniacally at the shocked faces on her classmates.

"You mean like…a person?" Daphne asked for everybody.

" _Person_? Please, don't give them that much value," Lillian answered, scoffing at such a ridiculous notion. "Anyway, on top of that, I need to buy a human heart, chalk made from human bones, candles and a dagger specifically created for black magic and ritual garbs." She counted everything off with her fingers as if she was ticking off a list of groceries, making the girls look green in the process while the boys just pointedly looked away.

"You really are sick." Pansy spat, looking at her as if she was the vilest thing she had ever laid her eyes on – which probably was exactly what the Parkinson princess was thinking.

"I would like to think that I simply have the stomach and willingness to explore everything our gift of magic has to offer. Don't you think it's sad that such powerful and ancient magic makes you react as...pitiful as you do?" Lillian asked them with a frown. "I mean, you don't have to practice it, but the mere mention of it has you look like scared toddlers."

"How can you be so…normal about something like that?" Daphne asked, her voice just above a whisper.

Lillian shrugged her shoulders. "I simply don't care about lesser beings – beings without magic – so if they are being processed into more useful things and, as a result of that, end up helping me dabble in black magic, then I am happy. And me being happy and in a good mood is good for everyone." Her eyes widened as she saw Mr Mulpepper's Apothecary. "Finally!" She rubbed her hands together in excitement and dashed forward, the hem of her dress fluttering in the light breeze.

As soon as she entered, she sought out the owner and the moment she spotted him, she walked up to him. "I would like to take a look at your…special wares," she whispered at him, barely containing her giddy grin.

He looked her up and down, raising a brow while doing so. "And why would I show those to a young lady like yourself?" he asked her with a gruff voice.

"Because you are a greedy old man who gets weak at the sight of gold," she smirked as she handed him three galleons from her pouch.

Immediately, he started to grin widely. "Ah, we have never spoken before but you already know me so well. Then come and, please, try not to throw up all over the place."

Rolling her eyes in good humour, she followed through a hidden corridor, still very excited.

Her entourage following, they took a set of steps leading downstairs and then through a door that was locked with a password, opened by the shop-owner.

Once inside, Lillian took the morbid sight in, her eyes shining brightly in fascination. "This is magnificent!"

"I think I have to puke…" Pansy mumbled and raced back upstairs.

Lillian scoffed. "Wimp." Turning her attention back to the cooled room, she let her eyes wander. "Just think of the possibilities with these ingredients!" She muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

"She does know those are human body parts, right?" She heard Tracey muttered, while she couldn't tear her eyes away from a cauldron full of human eyes, unseeing, but staring into her own.

"Do you have hearts? As fresh as possible?" Lillian asked the owner after her eyes had moved on from the cauldron to a bowl filled with tongues.

"Indeed I do. They are farther in the back."

She followed him again until they reached a wooden box, filled with hearts. "Wonderful. Now just to find the right one…" she muttered. She squatted down and was about to reach in, but was handed a pair of dragonhide gloves. Smiling sheepishly at the owner, she thanked him. "Got too excited I guess."

While she shuffled through the box, the man spoke up. "Dare I ask what you need them hearts for?"

"I can't forbid you to ask, but I have to refrain from answering this question or I might have to kill you and, honestly, your little shop is becoming way too convenient for me very quickly to risk a dead owner."

"Fair enough." The owner laughed in good humour.

"Ah, there it is." She pulled out a heart, still wonderfully red and even still a little bloody. "This one is very recent, isn't it?" Lillian asked. She snipped a finger against it, testing its texture, then she squeezed it lightly a few times, nodding in approval. She was no expert by any means, but she read so much about the usage of human body parts in rituals and how they were supposed to feel and look like, that she was fairly confident in her judgement.

"Yep," the owner said after looking at the tag. "Nineteen-year-old muggle girl. Came in this early morning."

"Perfect." Lillian grinned as she put the heart in a charmed bag to keep it cool. "Would you also happen to have chalk made of human bones?"

"Unfortunately, I don't. All I have are unprocessed ingredients for potions, poisons and less legal things than potions and poisons. You might want to check out Borgin and Burkes, Cobb and Webb's or Dystyl Phaelanges."

"I will do just that. Then our business is most certainly done for now. How much for this?" She held up the bag with the heart.

"Hm, human heart, not even a day old, young. Fifteen Galleons should suffice."

Laughing at the price, but fishing for the coins nonetheless, she handed them to the owner. "My dear friend, you are a cutthroat."

"And very proud of it." He grinned at her. "It was a delight to make business with such a beautifully young and dark lady. I hope to see you again soon."

"You will; be sure of it." She waved a hand at him before grinning at her entourage who gave her awkward looks. "What a lovely man, isn't he?"

* * *

It took another hour to finish the rest of her business until they were finally done and soon the group arrived back at Malfoy Manor.

Her Master was sitting on a couch in the living room, sipping from his glass filled with firewhisky. "I see you returned."

Not wasting a second to go down on a knee in front of him, Lillian answered for the group. "Yes, my Lord. We also finished my personal business."

"Wonderful. Do your classmates know what that business was for?"

"They do and they all are well aware to keep their mouths shut for their own safety." She grinned coldly at the group and she knew she was still scary enough from the submissive position she was in, considering how they all nodded frantically.

Letting out a small laugh, the Dark Lord motioned for her to get back up to her feet. "Very well then. You all are dismissed for today. Apprentice, when do you want to try out this ritual?"

"I would like to do so now, but we have nothing to experiment on."

"I wouldn't say that," the Dark Lord said.

Her eyes widened in excitement. "Really? Thank you so much, my Lord!"

"You have outdone yourself this summer, so I thought you were due for a small reward."

"Thank you, my Lord! Can we begin?"

"I will prepare your items while you go and get yourself ready."

Lillian nodded and ran to her room to wash up.

* * *

After having finished showering, her still wet hair clinging to her skin, Lillian put on the skirt she bought at Borgin and Burkes. It was made for African shamans who practice(d) voodoo and other sacrificial magics, blood magic included. Its material consisted of animal hide and fur, various human and animal bones decorating it. The skirt didn't go beyond mid-thigh and her top was completely bare, revealing her chest. She was shy to step like this in front of her Master but he wanted her to be his wife and he wanted to bed her, probably bear him an heir too.

 _He might as well see what he is going to get, right_? She tried to talk some bravery into herself. Taking a deep breath, her entire body shaking, she walked a while with her top only covered with a towel.

Once she reached the room, she stepped inside, paling at the group of people standing there. " _What are you doing here_?" she asked, her voice rising several octaves.

" _That_ would be because of me, my little apprentice. Something so rare should not be hidden from curious eyes, don't you think?" her Master explained why he invited them to watch.

"B-but I have to be…h-half-naked?"

Her Master stepped up to her, throwing an arm above her shoulders and pulling her away from the others. "Lillian…you have a beautiful body and you should not be ashamed of showing it. See it as therapy…though it is admittedly a pretty sudden and hands-on kind…but this may help you to get comfortable in your own body," he spoke slowly and his presence so close to her did calm her nerves.

"I'll try…" she finally assented.

"Very well. Let's get this started," he spoke loudly and clapped his hand.

Her face still pale and her body still shaking, she avoided any eyes as she removed the towel and put it on a chair moved to one side of the room. She was glad that no one whistled or commented at her bare breasts and hardening nipples as the cold air hit them.

Almost mechanically, she went and took the book lying readily on a table, as did the piece of chalk. She did her best to draw a perfect circle, big enough to place a grown man in it. She then drew another, smaller circle inside of it and connected them on the top and bottom with wavy lines. A few inches to the left side of the two circles she drew another one, completely empty.

Feeling more relaxed now that she got down to business and almost forgot about her audience, she asked her Master. "My Lord, the test subject?"

"There it is." He waved his wand and, from the back of the room, a young and fit male, immobilized, floated right into the middle of the first couple circles. Its head connected perfectly with the top wavy line and its feet with the bottom one. She then took the silver chalice placed on the table and went to the immobilized man, removing the charm partially so she could move its arm. It swung it at her, but Lillian dodged. She glared at it and grabbed her wand from the ground and aimed a bludgeoning hex at its elbow, shattering it in the process. The male screamed in pain but it couldn't move its mouth so it was muffled.

"Animals, every single one of your kind," Lillian muttered, as she cut it with the dagger along the artery of its arm, filling the chalice quickly with its blood before she healed the cut again.

"That should suffice."

She dipped a finger deeply into the collected blood and painted several runes on its body. After she was finished, she went and took the heart, placing it just over its head. Looking in its eyes, which were filled with terror, she spoke to it, but also loud enough for the rest of the room to hear her explanation. "This heart is…well, more of an offering than a sacrifice for the patrons who gave us the gift of blood magic. A sacrifice needs to be a living thing, ranging from rodents to bigger rodents like you. They are necessary for more powerful rituals. Ultimately you can use any body part, from arms and legs to just any organ you fancy. But the heart is said to be the most favoured offering, and, the fresher it is the better the patrons shall favour you."

It tried to say something, but it was all just very muffled with the immobilization charm still on it. Shrugging her shoulders, Lillian took the chalice with her and stood on her own, smaller circle. She painted several runes on herself, using the blood as a colouring before she squatted down and connected both circles with a wavy line of blood. She then stood up and took a deep breath to brace herself for what she was about to do.

Raising the chalice to her lips she squeezed her eyes shut as she heard several mutterings ranging from _She isn't!_ to _Damn!_. She took quick and deep gulps as she drank a muggle's blood, the coppery taste clinging to her tongue and painting her mouth and teeth in deep red.

The moment she finished it, she felt a sharp spark going through her body, illuminating her from the inside before it went away, but she still felt a strange awareness.

"Something's…different. She looked at the man and raised a finger but couldn't, no matter how hard she tried. "My Lord, could you lift the charm off him but keep him quiet?"

Once he did, she tried again and saw the test subject raise a finger. "Fascinating…I can make it do anything I want…but the mobility is limited. I wonder if I can manipulate it more deeply…" She went towards it and touched its arm, feeling it heat up under her palm as its blood started to boil. A grin covered her face, baring her still bloodstained teeth. "My Lord, I feel like this could be a wonderful torture device! I can basically boil his innards just by mere touch! The body control is not as effective I'm afraid but good enough to make it follow you in public without the obvious empty _Imperius_ eyes. But it's a thing of preference, I suppose. Don't you agree, muggle?" She asked her experiment as she placed a hand gently on its thigh, making it scream once again in agony.

"This is so much fun! Just a touch and-" She placed a finger in its belly-button and held it there for a few moments. Then, its screams, still muffled just a moment ago, were suddenly very loud.

"Stop! Please! Just kill me, kill me, please just make it stop!"

Looking at her Master she saw him with his wand in his hand, winking at her and she could just grin back. He had such great humour!

Removing her finger, she gave it a few moments to recover, its breath coming in pants.

"I wonder if there is more to this…" Lillian wondered out loud. She got back up from her position and had to stop herself before moving very consciously. "Apparently the movement manipulation has to be conscious and within the vision of the victim. This is very useless I am afraid. I have no idea what…no, wait…" She turned in excitement towards the table, her small breasts swinging with her at the sudden movement, the eyes of the boys firmly on them. She ignored that however and stared at her Master. "One could force another with this manipulation to harm their own kin! A mental torture device via movement manipulation. It's brilliant!"

Nodding in approval at her figuring this possibility out, Riddle tilted his head towards the tortured man. "Why don't you finish up?"

"Yes, my Lord!" She went up to her victim with a smile on her face, squatting down next to it. Running a hand through its hair, she took particular care that her skin touched its scalp. Soon it started screaming again, but it didn't take too long for blood to ooze out from its ears and nose before it became limp and stopped moving altogether.

She looked at her audience and, while all the children looked like they dreaded going to sleep tonight, Lucius looked at her as if he saw a completely new person. Her Master looked very pleased with her performance while Narcissa looked at the dead man on her floor, her face contorted in a grimace as if she had a particularly foul taste in her mouth.

Lillian, though, felt as if she could just float away. Today was a good day.

* * *

Later that night, comfortable in her bed and having pleasant dreams about the ritual she performed, she woke up, feeling disoriented. After her mind started to clear out the fog of sleep, she realized that something heavy was on top of her and something wet around her nipples. She felt something hard and warm poking the inside of her thigh and, with a sudden start, a wave of panic and adrenaline rushing through her, she grabbed her wand from under her pillow and aimed it at the general direction of the person. She missed him but tore a huge hole into the wall.

"GET OFF ME!" She shrieked at the person on top of her, who was so startled at the sudden violence that he fell onto the floor and scrambled up to run out of the room.

Lillian jumped off her bed, her nipple still bare and wet with saliva, the inside of her thigh still sticky with the person's pre-ejaculate, she sent another blasting spell after him and another and another.

"COME BACK SO I CAN KILL YOU!" She screamed again, the rage burning so hot in her that she didn't register where she was or how she looked. The Manor looked as if it went through a small battle, with holes littered across the walls, pieces of the floor and bannisters littered all over the place.

She heard several steps rushing towards her, her wand at the ready. Then she saw Lucius, Narcissa and her Master arriving at the scene and curious teenagers appeared from various directions. The adults took in the scene with wide eyes.

"What is the meaning of this, Potter?! Why are you destroying my home? And cover yourself up, will you!"

"Where is he?!" she snarled at him, not caring about his house in the slightest.

"Lillian!" her Master barked at her but, while still turning towards him, she didn't calm down. "What are you talking about?"

"Some fucker sneaked into my room and…touched me! While I was asleep!" she barked back.

His face was darkening instantly. "Who?" he asked, his voice low, but the fury he was feeling was palpable.

Lillian looked at the group of her classmates and saw only one of them missing. "Nott," she whispered. "Where is he?!" The dark-haired girl barked at the youngsters.

"He…uh, he hid in…my room." Zabini spoke up and Narcissa immediately disapparated and returned a few moments later with a scared looking Theodore.

Not even wasting a second she immediately aimed her want at him and screamed. "Crucio!"

It only lasted a few seconds though, her wand flying from her hand into the waiting one of her Master. "Enough."

She didn't look at him or even addressed him as she turned around and went to leave back towards her room.

" _Lillian_..." His voice started to sound threatening.

"I need to wash myself off his…fluids…before I get sick in front of everyone," she said stiffly. Saying nothing more, she left.

* * *

The next day, Lillian's mood was in the gutter and she avoided any contact with any person. She spent the entire morning in the library, having her food and drink brought to her by the house-elf.

After she arrived in the bathroom last night she immediately cast a silencing and locking charm on the door and screamed until she couldn't help and break down in tears and throw up into the toilet.

It wasn't because of the act itself, but more the timing that finally had her cry for the first time in six years. She finally felt like she was starting to heal. She already had two sessions with a healer who got hired by her Master. She enjoyed speaking to her and though they had yet to brush on the actual topic the healer was hired for, she talked a lot about sexuality and the mental healing process after rape, how different women dealt differently with it.

Some, like her, felt no desire for any sexual endeavours at all, while some let themselves go and had as much sex with as many people as they could.

They talked, and Lillian actually tried out touching herself in general erogenous areas, actually enjoying the sensations she could give herself. Yesterday, before going to bed, she even caused herself to moan loudly. She even did become comfortable during the ritual, not minding the ogling eyes of the boys after a while.

Of course, it _did_ help that she became so deeply involved and distracted in the torture of the victim, but nonetheless, she felt like she had made such huge steps and now _that_ had happened. She felt as if she was thrown back a lot more than she made steps forward.

Just yesterday, the thoughts of being touched by a man brought up extremely careful curiosity – but curiosity nonetheless – but the thought now made her sick and want to throw up.

As soon as she heard the door to the library slowly open, she gathered herself up and marked the page in the book. Then, when she was starting to leave, she was stopped though by Narcissa, the tall stature and elegant dress telling her as much since she avoided looking anyone in the face and just stared ahead.

"You were supposed to hold one of your tutoring sessions two hours ago," Lady Malfoy said.

"I don't care," she muttered, her voice still hoarse from yesterday's screaming.

"The Dark Lord wishes to speak with you."

Nodding, Lillian went on her way to meet her Master. Maybe he would _Crucio_ her, maybe he would just scold her, but she didn't really care at this point. What Nott tried to do caused her to feel weak again.

Yes, she defended herself, but that was only because he didn't bind her. If he had, she knew how it would have ended.

Once she arrived at her destination she knocked and waited for permission to enter. Stepping inside, she dropped – out of habit by now – on one knee. "My Lord."

"Rise, apprentice, and sit down."

Nodding, she got up and took a seat across from him.

"You didn't appear to your tutoring session."

"Yes."

"And why?"

"I preferred to spend the entirety of the day in solitude."

"Yet you appeared here."

"When the Dark Lord calls upon his apprentice she appears, whether she wants to or not."

"Indeed. But why would such a devoted apprentice like you not continue on fulfilling a task you had gotten through direct order from me?"

"Because I will not have anyone see me while I feel this weak."

Sighing, her Master ran a hand through his curly hair. "Nott didn't actually want to rape you, or so he said."

"What?" Her voice was low and her eyes narrowed.

"He said he wanted to seduce you because he heard you moan through your door an hour before he sneaked in and he thought you might enjoy some company. Of course, I still punished him severely because first, you belong to me and second, what he did still accounts as attempted rape as you were not aware at all to what he was doing."

"I do belong to you, my Lord." She whispered before her mind went back to what actually angered her. "So, he is still here?"

"Yes."

"I will leave then."

"No."

"Then I will stop tutoring those brats."

"You won't. He wants to apologize."

Lillian first looked at her Master, then broke out laughing, almost entering into hysteria. "Oh, that's okay then! _'Hey, Lillian, I am so sorry that I almost fucked you in your sleep. I didn't actually want to rape you, I just happened to assume that hearing a girl moan in her room is an open invitation for any guy to sneak into their rooms during the night and rape them as they sleep because that's what really gets a girl going_.' Yes, my Lord. I'll absolutely accept that apology. Should Vernon apologize, I'll accept that too. He probably once heard me moan because my back ached as I was cleaning the floor of the entire house with my hands when I was eight and assumed it was sexual and that all I needed was a good shag."

"Are you done, apprentice?" the Dark Lord ground out between his teeth, and she could see his fingers itching to punish her for her insolence.

"Yes."

Her Master was visibly struggling with what he was about to say, so she remained silent and waited.

Then, after a few moments, he spoke. "I…am sorry for presuming that a simple apology would suffice in clearing a matter as sensitive and hurtful as this one's for you."

Lillian's eyes widened and her cheeks actually flushed red. "My Lord…you didn't need to-"

"Lillian." He got up from his seat and placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to stiffen at first but then, she slowly relaxed. "I treasure your loyalty to me. Never before had I had a follower with devotion like yours." He paused for a moment. "Sure, there was Bellatrix but she was utterly unstable and her loyalty to me was tainted by her obsession. While you have her sadistic and ruthless streak – a very useful trait to have when you torture someone for important information – you are, very unlike her, sane. I have to admit that watching you teach and watching you learn is a wonderful distraction from my daily work."

She smiled into her lap as the blood from her cheeks spread all over her face. "Thank you, my Lord." She whispered.

"I don't want to jeopardize our relationship before you are even ready to indulge it more deeply. I don't treat anything that belongs to me carelessly. So yes, I have to admit a mistake I made and apologize for it. I will remove Nott from the Manor if this is your wish."

"It is."

"Then it will be done. I do expect you to continue your tutoring tomorrow. Indulge in solitude today if this is what helps you."

"Thank you, my Lord."

"And I will call the mind-healer for tomorrow. Speak to her about what happened."

"I…" She sighed. He already allowed her more than she expected, he didn't punish her for her cheek and he even apologized for being tactless. "As you wish, my Lord."

She got up from her chair and gave her Master a brief but grateful look. She was content with how this talk turned out in the end. But then, she shouldn't have expected anything less from him.

He did say that he took great care of his belongings and, after all, he more than once made it very clear that she belonged to him.


	5. First Day

_Finally! The summer is over!_

Lillian was getting herself ready to leave the Manor and to get to Platform 9 ¾. This summer holiday felt like the longest she had ever had and, even though it was mostly positive in so many different ways, the last couple of weeks were really starting to grind on her nerves.

Starting with the fact that, after a wonderful day full of shopping for a human heart, chalk made of human bones and other such morbid and fascinating things, after engaging and experimenting on her first-ever blood ritual, Theodore Fucking Nott eavesdropped on her when she had been engaged in a little exploration of her body and heard her moan loudly when she had found a particularly wonderful spot.

Apparently, he translated that moan into _'please, Theo, come into my room when I sleep and rape me'_ , considering that was what he attempted.

The following days had been spent with her receiving looks filled with pity from her classmates. They all tried to 'comfort' her and 'be there' for her.

She neither had wanted nor needed the help of those imbeciles. After a day of solitude following that Nott-situation, she had been fine and back to her usual _you-insects-are-below-me-attitude_.

And still, Daphne had suddenly wanted to become her friend and shared details about her on-and-off relationship with Zabini with her. Why would she want to know that Daphne was annoyed with Blaise because he got her to give him a blowjob, but wouldn't return the favour and go down on her? To make things worse, the incredulous look Lillian gave Daphne for that particular piece of information had been interpreted as ' _really? I so totally understand you, Daphne_ ', causing the Greengrass princess to share even more.

The only positive outcome of that whole situation was that, for once, Pansy just kept her mouth shut and didn't annoy her. It was such a pleasant change, that Lillian had hoped the others would just take Pansy's example and shut the bloody hell up.

But they didn't, and she blessed every deity she knew of when September 1st finally arrived.

So, here she was, just slipping into a fresh pair of black lace knickers – she didn't have a specific reason for wearing them other than enjoying the feel of lace on her skin – and was about to put on her bra when she was startled by a knock on her door. "Who is it?"

"It is me, my dear apprentice."

Her small breasts were still out in the open, her bra still in her hands. She bit her lip, wondering _if she should_. On one hand, as uncomfortable as she still felt at times, she did enjoy it when her Master's leering eyes stared at her, stripped her bare and caressed her. On the other hand...well, _she still felt so uncomfortable at times_. Yes, she liked to wear light and short dresses but that was only for comfort and because she found them pretty.

But there he was; the man who wanted to marry her because he found both their bloodlines to be highly compatible, who wanted to sire her child so she could bear him his heir.

"I might as well…" She whispered to herself and took a deep breath. "Think of it as therapy. This is your future Lord Husband waiting outside." Calming her nerves with a couple more deep breaths, she called out. "Please come in, my Lord."

Her naked back towards the door, she heard it open and close with a soft click. "Thank you for knocking, my Lord, but you shouldn't have to. When you want to be somewhere, you should just go and enter."

"That I usually do, but I thought I should be a gentleman for once," he answered with a small chuckle.

"And I appreciate the sentiment, but you are my Lord and I am but your servant and apprentice. The roles are clear and, considering that you also want to sire my future child, there shouldn't be a reason for modesty between us. Sooo…would you mind helping me with this, my Lord?" She turned around, her face beet red as her breasts were bare in front of him. Holding out her bra, which was matching to her knickers, she handed it to him with shaking hands.

He took it from her, his eyes burning her soft, pale skin as he drank in the sight of her bare flesh. "Of course. Slip your arms through and turn around."

She did as she was told, her skin bursting out in flames at every graze of his fingertips on her skin and then turned around, feeling the material tighten comfortably around her before it settled firmly against her skin.

"Thank you," she whispered, then walked towards the wardrobe to take out the dress she picked out the night before. Quickly slipping into it, she sat down on her bed and put on the pair of heeled strappy sandals waiting there for her. Once done, she started to brush her lush and wavy hair to get rid of any tangles, which was easier now that she had it cut short, reaching just beyond her jawline. "Was there a reason you wanted to see me, my Lord?" She asked him, a leg crossed over the other, baring a soft thigh, as she kept herself busy with her brush. "Also, please make yourself comfortable. The bed has enough room for you to sit down," she added with good humour, hoping he would see it as such.

Thankfully, he seemed to do so since he accepted her invitation. "I hope you do understand that I don't make a habit out of seeing off any of my lackeys."

"Of course, my Lord. It's why I feel humbled that you took the time out of your schedule to see me." And she meant every word.

"As you should. I came by to give you something. Something to remember me by, something to have me with you permanently."

_It couldn't be…could it_? "You don't...couldn't...mean…The Mark?" She whispered.

"Oh yes, I do."

"My Lord…I-I…I'm not worthy! I haven't achieved anything in your honour yet!" How could he think that she was worthy enough already to wear something as glorious as the Dark Mark?

"That is indeed true. But I see in you a lot more than in many others of my inner circle. Besides, you are my apprentice. You will become my first lieutenant. You will be the mother of my heir. I find it only fitting to bind you to me and my cause forever."

"I…I will wear it with pride, my Lord," she whispered. This felt like a dream to her – one she never wanted to wake up from.

"I know you will. But for now, I will hide it under a permanent glamour charm. You will know it is there, but no one will see it, not even Dumbledore. It will remain hidden until I – and only I – remove that charm."

"I am ready, my Lord."

"Then give me your left arm."

The moment she did so, he grabbed it gently and pressed the tip of his wand against the inside of her forearm. She felt a burning sensation spreading through her arm and as she looked she could see that infamous skull with the serpent slithering out of its mouth pouring like ink out of her Master's wand and into her skin. After a few moments, he withdrew his wand and there it was – if she wanted or not – she was bound to Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr. a.k.a Lord Voldemort for the rest of her life. She was now forever his to command, his to use as a weapon and, at some point during this year, she would also be expected to be his to warm his bed with.

She stroked the tattoo, as black as a starless night, running a finger on top of the serpent. "I will make it my life goal to never disappoint you, my Lord," she whispered.

"I have heard this a lot of times. Just make sure to be the first one to actually achieve this goal."

"Yes, my Lord." A sudden wave of determination ran through her, becoming now part of his inner circle and wearing his mark causing it. "I will do my best to be ready by winter, my Lord."

He gave her a curious look. "Ready for what?"

"To share your bed," she answered bluntly, though she felt her cheeks heat up. But Lillian felt, deep inside, that she wanted this. She wanted her Master to show her pleasure, to touch her. All that was left was that mental barrier, a reflex and impulse which seemingly wanted to protect her from intimate touches. It needed to be dealt with and if she needed to, she would see to it to have more frequent sessions with that mind-healer.

Chuckling, he cupped her cheek. "You set yourself high goals. I hope – for your sake – that you achieve them. Now go, the others are waiting and you don't want to miss the train."

She nodded and grabbed her handbag, gasping when she felt him slap her ass lightly.

"I wanted to do this since you allowed me to walk in on you wearing nothing but that scandalous underwear." She could pretty much hear his grin.

"I'm glad you liked them," she muttered, not looking at him as she rushed out of her room. Once she felt she reached a far enough distance she couldn't help but smirk to herself. This was big for her. Getting her rear touched in such a way by a man of such magnificence and feeling nothing but excited was a first. Now, for the first time, she felt confident that she actually could follow up on her big talk.

* * *

Her great mood evaporated once she stepped inside their compartment after Draco once they were back from the prefect meeting.

Theodore Nott was sitting in their compartment. At first, she ignored him, minding her own business, reading through the last few pages of the last schoolbook she had left to read when she heard his soft and scared voice calling out to her, trying to get her attention.

She slowly put the book down on her lap, marking the page and closing it, a manicured fingernail painted in black tapping the cover of the book impatiently as she looked at him, having found a seat across from her.

Seeing that she wouldn't say anything, he simply started to apologize. "I really am so- "

"No. I will not accept an apology from someone who attempted to rape me in my sleep." With that, she thought she ended the conversation and was about to return her attention back to her book when he continued to talk.

"Come on, I thought we were friends."

All she could do for a few moments was to give him a look of utter confusion and bewilderment. " _What_? When did that happen? The lot of you hate my guts just for breathing; not that I care, but still, the fact remains that we never ever have been 'friends' at any point and I also don't want any. I can do well enough without having people latch onto me like leeches, thank you very much. And for _you_ to actually come here after you tried to rape me and _then_ claim that we have been _friends_ …if this is how you treat supposed 'friends' then I should probably feel sorry for Daphne and Pansy and Tracey."

"I actually feel sad that you feel that way…" Daphne muttered.

Lillian, now back at reading the book, had a leg crossed over the other and bobbed a bare foot up and down, having slipped out of her sandals once they had found their seats. "Not my problem," she answered flippantly at Daphne's comment. "I, for one, am perfectly content."

"What if you ever need someone watching your back? What if you have problems you need someone else's help with?" Draco asked her.

"Then I'll just hire your gorillas since they're more than capable of watching 'my back', considering they've been busy doing that all summer." Lillian drawled, ignoring the laughter as she was idly flipping through a page. While she kept bobbing her foot, her eye caught some of the nail polish being chipped on her toenails. Frowning, she put the book down, rummaged through her bag until she found the small bottle and pulled her knee up to her chest, the foot planted on the edge of her seat.

"Really?" Blaise muttered, amusement clear on his face.

"What can I say?" she mumbled as her brows were knit in concentration. "I am a vain person."

"Vain, arrogant, sadistic, ruthless, coldhearted, selfish – now _those_ are some grand qualities in a girl." Draco laughed.

"Thank you very much, Draco. One of your qualities must be your humour. If I didn't need to be so concentrated right now I'd have laughed at the arrogance-part, considering it came from you of all people." Hearing no reply, she just muttered. "Knew that'd shut you up."

Once she was done covering over the chipped spots, she continued her work to get it done cleanly, first with a cotton pad to carefully dab off the excess paint then applying polish over the nail again so it looked the way it was supposed to. "Perfect."

Carefully setting the foot down on one of her sandals, she inspected the other and was glad to see that there was no chipped polish anywhere.

"Why don't you just use magic?" Draco asked her.

"Magic is not reliable when it comes to cosmetics," she answered shortly, this time crossing the other leg over the one with the freshly applied polish as she resumed her reading.

* * *

The compartment was quiet for a while. All that could be heard was the occasional rustling of a page, Blaise's soft snores and the engine of the train.

Having finally finished the last page, she closed the book and put it inside her handbag, before checking her watch. Looking around she saw that everyone else was either asleep or otherwise occupied.

She shook the dozing Draco awake, who looked startled at the rude awakening. "It's time to start our patrolling."

"Already?" He yawned and stretched.

"Yes, now get up. We don't have all day."

While he was slowly gathering himself up, she slipped into her sandals before collecting her school clothes. "Let's go find a compartment where I can change."

It didn't take them long and she quickly got inside it and changed.

"Let's get this prefect business started, shall we?" She said after she got back out, fully dressed in her Hogwarts uniform.

Taking on a leisurely pace, they looked around and were glad that there was nothing going on that would need their intervention.

After a while, Draco spoke up. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said…back in the library, the day after you arrived."

She indicated with her hand for him to continue, making it clear that she was listening.

"Did you mean it when you said that you saw more potential in me?" he asked her, causing her to groan mentally.

"Is this going to be the kind of awkward situation in which you want me to give you some sort of insightful advice or something?" she asked with a grimace.

Malfoy just sighed and scowled at her, putting his hands on her shoulders to stop her and quickly pulling them back again. "Just this once I want you to say something to help me out here. This is important to me, so please, just…don't be sarcastic or cruel or whatever. Just…help me out here. Please."

"Fine. But if you tell anyone about this, I will torture you until you will have to rent a bed next to the Longbottoms."

"Sure, okay. Can't have people think about you as anything other than a cold bitch."

"Exactly! I actually love my reputation because it is accurate." She chuckled to herself. " _Anyways_ …I meant what I said. You have the potential to be better academically. It was obvious when I tutored you and that is so frustrating for me!" She scowled at him. "Do you even begin to understand how mad it makes me when someone does not even try to reach his full potential, especially academically?"

"Why?"

"That is personal and something you do not need to know. Just understand that it makes me mad, really mad. I strive to be the best at everything I can be and I will try to top every class and I will do all I legally can to be top at herbology this year. There is nothing I enjoy more than learning new things and applying that knowledge. It's this drive and this thirst for knowledge that ultimately secured me the position I have with… _him_."

Draco was silent for a while as he apparently took her words in. He never was that big of a reader and never was really invested in academics, as far as she knew at least. But Lillian knew he never needed to be.

"You need to get off your arse, Draco," Lillian continued into his silence. "Knowledge is the one real way to power. Bribery, like your father uses, is good enough for a while, but sooner or later people will try and rid the ministry of corruption. One day his targets will be replaced by other people like Amelia Bones. It is a good and useful talent to have, but it isn't permanent. _Knowledge is_. I was powerful enough to beat your father in a duel because I have knowledge and he doesn't. He is an average wizard at best."

"Would you mind continuing to tutor us? The willing ones at least. I spoke with Daphne, Blaise and Tracey, they would all want to. Theo only if you allow it, obviously. We all –"

"As flattering as it is, I won't have the time. With my own studies, with prefect duties, with…new occupations, I simply won't have the time, even if I wanted to. Which I don't."

"Well, we expected that answer." Draco gave her that infuriating smirk of his. "We thought of a solution and ended up speaking with my mother, who in turn spoke with my father, _who_ in turn spoke to your, uh, boss."

" _You didn't_." She growled at him, both infuriated and impressed at his gall to go to her Lord and Master behind her back – just to have her teach them.

"We did. Here is proof. He handed it to me yesterday evening." His smirk grew.

She snatched the parchment from his grasp and looked at it. At first, it was empty, but then it quickly reacted to her touch and she felt the inside of her left arm burn. Ink appeared on the parchment and it pretty much confirmed what he told her.

"You are going to pay for this move, Draco."

"I want to be better and I want an important role in his future," he replied with a low voice. "But I do need your help. We all do. We are willing to pay our dues to get there."

Huffing in annoyance, she stuffed the parchment into her back as they resumed their patrol. "That you will."

* * *

Later that day, once the Hogwarts Express arrived at Hogwarts, they made their way towards the seemingly magically operated carriages. Lillian knew better, though, and she knew that most of 'her' students would now too.

She couldn't hide her smirk when she heard Daphne squeal. "Merlin, what are _those_?!"

Several students stopped to give the Greengrass princess an odd look.

"Relax, Daphne. Those are Thestrals. Only people who have experienced death one way or another can see them," Lillian explained with a roll of her eyes. She patted the leathery hide on the neck of one of the skeletal horses.

"They are supposed to be a bad omen!" one of the Gryffindor prefects, Ron Weasley, whispered loudly, eyes widened in fear and trepidation.

"Don't soil your underwear, Bilius. They simply have a bad reputation. They are actually quite docile." Ever since he got that howler from his mother, who announced his ridiculous middle name to the whole school in her rant, she never wavered from addressing him with that name only.

Ignoring his petty insults, she stepped into one of the carriages and sat down next to Daphne, who pointedly ignored Blaise.

_I wonder what he did this time. Maybe he didn't hold her hand long enough. Or he did it too long and Daphne wasn't ready for that kind of commitment and she felt pressured by him and…_

Soon enough they arrived at the castle, time flying by thanks to her new pastime of spinning the most outlandish reasons for what new drama happened between Daphne and Blaise she amused herself with.

Stepping past the opening gates, the group of chattering students entered the Great Hall and Lillian couldn't help but feel like she returned home. Yes, the curriculum was way too tame for her taste and she got bored easily because, if she may say so herself, she was intellectually too far ahead for what was being taught here. She also quite disliked the number of mudbloods which were allowed into Hogwarts each year – an unpopular opinion outside of her house.

But this was her refuge from Privet Drive. This was her safe haven for the past few years. This was where she learned that she was not a freak but that she had a gift that put her above mudbloods, above the average, mundane human. Here she learned that she was superior with every piece of magic she absorbed and learned and used.

This place was where she started polishing the raw diamond that was created after years of abuse and molestation and ultimately became the dark apprentice of Lord Voldemort/Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr.

Sitting down with her year mates, she ignored their chatter and let her eyes wander over the high table. She stopped at a distasteful looking woman with the most hideous looking pink robes she had ever laid eyes on.

"Sweet Morgana's knickers, is that frog up there that Umbridge woman your father was yapping about, Draco? Is she blind or why is she wearing something… _that_ bright?"

Following her gaze, all the girls started to giggle while the boys looked slightly disturbed at the colour.

They quieted down when McGonagall brought in the Sorting Hat and it started to sing once more and soon the sorting began. She remembered when she was standing there, a broken and weak girl, wearing way too oversized clothes, but _so_ excited all the same. Yes, she had been so unbelievably excited for this adventure, this new life for her, and now, five years later, she could say she grabbed that opportunity as firmly as possible with both of her hands.

Half an hour later, the last of the first years were sorted and the headmaster was about to begin his speech when he was interrupted by a sickening _hem, hem_.

Soon enough, that ministry lackey began her own speech and Lillian listened carefully, even though she already had the information about the ministry's plans regarding Hogwarts.

After she was done, there were a couple of polite claps strewn across the hall but most students looked like they just woke up from a nap.

"Ugh, that woman…" Lillian shook herself. "Her voice alone grates on my nerves."

"You actually listened? We already knew what's going on, why bother?" Tracey asked her with a yawn that quickly morphed into a grin as the food finally appeared.

"Well, yes. It is one thing to hear it mouth-to-ear, but it is something entirely different to hear it from the original source." She put some food onto her plate and was glad that she was sitting a bit away from Crabbe and Goyle since their eating habits left a lot to be desired.

Soon enough the desserts replaced the main course and she looked for her favourite before happily putting some on her plate. Taking a forkful of the treacle tart, she sighed happily at the wonderful taste. "I could eat tons of this and never feel sick of it."

Once the whole student body felt sated and sleepy, Dumbledore stood up again and ordered the prefects to lead the first years to their common rooms.

"Come on, then." She looked at Draco and had him follow her as she called for the first years. They walked in a leisurely pace, allowing the children to take in the moving portraits and other magical wonders the castle had to offer. They walked the shortest and easiest path from the Great Hall to the Slytherin common room, all the while answering questions the little ones had. She hoped they would do their house proud. While Slytherin stood for cunning and resourcefulness above all else, the house of the serpent had a history of producing some of the greatest minds in the history, part of the reason being that a Slytherin usually didn't shy away from delving deeper into magic than others.

Soon, they arrived at the wall leading inside their common room. "Here we are," Lillian announced. "Do you remember the way from the Great Hall to here?" Several nods were her answer, so she continued.

"If you don't remember or are lost somewhere in the castle, don't shy away from asking the older students for directions, especially the ones with the prefect badge. They will help you, and if they don't then just remember what they look like and tell me, so I can have a chat with them." She smirked at the giggles she received. "Now, getting into our common room is fairly easy. All you have to do is say the password towards the wall." She took her position right in front of it and spoke in a clear voice so even the kids farther in the back could hear her. " _Lingua serpentis_."

The wall vanished to gasps from the first years and they were wide-eyed while looking around the room, seeing the crackling fire, the comfortable chairs and tables, the couches and the lake's inhabitants through the enchanted windows. "The password changes every week and you can find the new one always over there, so make sure to check or you will have to wait until someone else who knows the password wants to get in. Draco will show the boys to their dormitories; girls, follow me."

She showed them the dormitories for the first years, then headed up to her own. Her trunk already at the foot of her bed, she began to unpack and hang her clothes in the wardrobe assigned to her. Once she was done and her undergarments, socks and various other things were where she wanted them to be, she changed into her nightclothes – a pair of boxer briefs with a tank top – and crawled under her blankets. She then leaned, while sitting, against the head of her bed with a book in her lap.

It was about ancient shamanic rituals in Africa and how they developed and changed over the centuries.

She found it awfully interesting how sacrificial magic was practised back then and how the magical community developed faster than the muggle community thanks to those sacrifices. She knew that it wouldn't work like that these days. First, one needed hundreds and in very rare cases thousands of sacrifices in a single ritual for the kinds of effects described in the book. That was the reason why mass sacrifices were done so often in ancient times. Today, though, it would be impossible. The magical community was dying out and, as distasteful as it was, the intermarriage and crossbreeding between magical and non-magical people was the saving grace of magic. _She_ was a prime example of that, as much as she would have loved to have a pure and unsullied bloodline.

Secondly, there was the fact that, since they couldn't afford to sacrifice their own people, the only other possibility was mudblood sacrifices. Considering how technologically advanced they were in comparison to the magical community it would be suicide to engage in such an attempt. One muggle bomb going off in Diagon Alley would put a huge dent in the number of her kind.

It was a shame, really. The ancient magical people had the right idea about the usage of sacrifices. But there were always the goody-two-shoes who ruined everything.

An hour had passed since she started reading when the door opened and the other girls of her year came in. Not bothering to acknowledge them, she kept on reading, ignoring their giggles and whispers.

"Do you actually have hobbies other than reading?" Daphne asked her, trying to get a look at the cover. " _The Dark History of Magic – Shamanism and Sacrifices in Africa_. Sounds ominous."

"Reading is one of the greatest gifts we, as humans, have…actually the second greatest, right after magic." Her eyes were still on the book as she flipped to the next page. "To be able to indulge in it as often as I can seems like the most natural thing to do to me. As for other hobbies…you did witness one during the summer." She looked over her book at Daphne and gave her a predatory grin, making the blonde girl pale at the implication.

"Sorry I asked…" The Greengrass princess muttered.

"What did you do with her during the summer?" Bulstrode asked Daphne, a curious look on her face.

"I was tasked to tutor her and several others from our year," Lillian answered in a bored tone, back to her reading.

"Sounds…fun…"

Not bothering to answer, she finally put the book away and stretched like a cat before laying down on her side to sleep, her tiredness washing over her and drowning the sound of chatter from the rest of the girls.

* * *

Their first class of the year being potions with Gryffindor, she both dreaded and looked forward to it. She dreaded it because she hated the Gryffindors. Their righteousness, their holier-than-thou attitude, their brashness and, worst of all, Bilius.

She didn't like the Weasley clan in general. Bilius, because he lacked talent in pretty much everything, the twins because they didn't seem to care about their academics and, apparently, all they were good for was Quidditch – a sport she never bothered to get into – and jokes, most of which were aimed at Slytherins.

Then there was the single Weasley girl. Ginevra, she didn't even actively dislike. The redhead amused her more than not, but that was about it. For a time, she seemed to have some sort of celebrity crush on her up to the point when she realized that her heroine was actually a Snake instead of a Lioness.

So, once she made her way towards the first potions class of the year, she wondered what potion they would start with when she caught snippets of the chatter going on around her.

"…going to sit next to her!"

"This is my worst class, I should be the one!"

"Not my problem. I called dibs first."

Lillian's brows furrowed in confusion, she looked at Tracey Davis, who chuckled at the look on her face. "What are they going on about?"

"They are fighting over who's allowed to sit next to you," Tracey answered, her voice full of mirth.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope."

"Draco! Blaise! None of you will sit next to me!" Lillian barked at them. "I can't have anyone distract me by forcing me to explain to you what should be obvious, considering it's on the blackboard there for you to read." She glared at them. "Just get back to ignoring me already, will you?"

It was so annoying how she suddenly found herself integrated into this little group, even if it was more about the benefits _they_ got out of having her there than them enjoying her presence. It still was a huge inconvenience for her because they simply didn't leave her alone anymore.

The door to the classroom opened and they went inside, she on purpose being the last to enter, hoping that someone would take the spots next to Draco and Blaise. With narrowed eyes, she scanned for an empty spot at the Slytherin side and growled in frustration.

"Really?" She hissed as she sat down between the two boys who fought over who would be allowed to sit next to her. "If my mark drops because you two keep bugging me to help you and distract me, you will regret it," she threatened them and they knew she meant it.

They listened to Snape as he insulted them in his own underhanded way and reminded them about the importance of this year's potions class and their O.W.L. exams at the end of the year.

Then, with the typical flick of his wand, he had the necessary steps for the Draught of Peace they were supposed to make appear on the blackboard.

Immediately getting up to collect the necessary ingredients, she returned a few short moments later with everything she needed and went to task.

With the directions being very specific, she knew that every little mistake would ruin her efforts and possibly her mark.

So, she began to add ingredients and stir while answering questions from both sides at the same time.

It was a difficult task, but, in the end, she persevered and her draught looked turquoise blue, the way it was supposed to when she finished.

Still, it was a very frustrating and stressful class when she usually enjoyed it for the way brewing a potion made her relax. That was exactly the reason why she made her displeasure very clear to the boys as they made their way to their next class, DADA.

"I don't get it! Can't you read? Do you need spectacles? Every single step needed for the drought was right in front of you, written in large, legible letters. Every single step! And yet you asked me what every single step meant! Is there more than one way to interpret 'stir until the potion turns blue'?"

"We already said we are sorry, what else do you want?" Draco groaned.

As she opened her mouth to retort, Umbridge cleared her throat in that fake, unnerving way of hers and ushered them inside the classroom.

Once inside, she took a seat on the far-right side of the classroom. The rest of the Slytherins followed her lead and they took their seats around her but thankfully got the message as she had no one sitting right next to her.

She already had a vicious headache going on with that potions class and had now to suffer through whatever the ministry came up with for that Umbridge hag.

Sighing, she pulled a piece of parchment, her quill and ink and the book out of her bag and began the task assigned to them, which she could thankfully finish in peace.

Her temper tantrum after potions class had obviously paid off, considering she was left alone for the rest of the day, but she still felt like that there were some things she needed to make clear.

When they were done with their dinner, she gathered the whole group in the common room and sat them down by the fire, ignoring the curious glances she got from the rest of the house.

"What I am about to say now, I will only say once. If I feel like you still don't get it, if there is any indication that you simply chose to ignore what I am about to say, then be sure to suffer my utmost displeasure." Once they all nodded, she took a breath and began. "Leave. Me. Alone. I love potions. I love going to that class because I find it relaxing. But today…" Draco and Blaise cringed. "Today it gave me the worst headache I ever had. Not only did I have to take care not to screw up my own potion, no, I also had to explain every single detail to you two!" She glared at the two boys. "I am not your babysitter! The fact that I have to keep tutoring you, after already doing so the whole summer, is pissing me off as it is! I have enough to do already this year and I refuse to do your work for you on top of that!" Feeling more relaxed now, she turned to leave but decided for another, more threatening message. "Just be glad that we are in Hogwarts. All I can do here is scold you like naughty little children."

With that, she went up to the fifth-year dormitories and flopped down on her bed and took her book from the nightstand.

Reading was right up there with brewing potions when it came to relaxing tasks.


	6. Interlude

The rest of the week, after she took Draco and his entourage to task, was finally the way she enjoyed it the most: quiet.

All she did and had to do was go to class, sit down and excel in everything, so she did exactly that. She already earned her house several points for being the first to finish their assigned task in transfiguration and charms, for her draught of peace being perfect and, even in herbology, she finally managed to outshine Neville Longbottom.

She felt like she was on top of the world and her improved attitude showed exactly that.

Friday evening, the weekend had arrived on them, had the Slytherin House relax in the common room, most of the fifth years gathered on a table with books, parchments and heads on the table as there were several growls of frustration heard.

"You lot!" Lillian called to them as she made her way towards their table. "Tutoring session tomorrow at ten in the morning."

"That's so early!" Pansy complained.

Lillian scoffed. "I don't care. You want it, you meet my demands and I demand you to be up at ten. Professor Snape provided us with an empty classroom in the dungeons. You will not bring your homework with you. We will review this week's classes and I will allow you questions regarding your homework at the end of the session." With that, she turned around and went to her own table, finishing up her essay for Arithmancy.

Once done, she packed up and stowed away her books and parchments in her dorm and left the common room to take advantage of the last sun rays of the day outside in the grounds. As she passed the medical wing she heard the school healer, Madam Pomfrey, call for her. Curious, she raised a brow and entered the healer's office. "Yes?"

"Ms Potter, I was about to send you an owl. Take a seat, please. We will soon be joined by the headmaster, regarding your letter asking for a mind-healer to be allowed into the castle for a weekly therapy session with you."

"And why would that be such a big deal that the headmaster thinks it necessary to have a chat with me about it?" Lillian didn't hide her irritation.

"Because I was wondering why you wouldn't consider having these sessions with Poppy, who would be just as capable," Dumbledore answered in his grandfatherly way as he entered, mysteriously just in time to snatch up a supposedly private conversation between her and the school healer.

"I feel more comfortable having my therapy with someone who is as neutral as possible and considered outstanding and prodigal in their field – exactly what Anna O'Hallahan is." She glanced at Pomfrey. "No disrespect."

Nodding ever so slightly, the elderly healer glanced at her. Dumbledore, on the other hand, gave her an impassive look. "Then would you mind sharing why you require a mind-healer? Does it have something to do with the events during the Triwizard Tournament's finale?"

"No. It has something to do with something I told you about at the end of my first year if you remember?" She glared at him, avoiding his eyes and their dangerous twinkle.

"What? What is it? Albus, if you knew that she had troubles for four years-" Madam Pomfrey began to scold the headmaster before Lillian cut in.

"Actually, it's almost seven years now, but I am sure he knew even then…unlikely that the headmaster did not keep tabs on me." Lillian shrugged nonchalantly. "Anyways, if you do not allow Anna into the castle once every Sunday, then I will have to have a chat with Mr Lucius Malfoy, who luckily got reinstated into the Board of Governors this summer, about giving me special permission to leave the castle to meet with my mind-healer because Hogwarts doesn't seem to value its students' mental health as much as it should."

"That won't be necessary. Right, Albus?" Poppy asked the headmaster pointedly, causing the old wizard to sigh in defeat.

"No, it won't. Ms O'Hallahan has permission to enter the school grounds."

"Thank you very much." Lillian gave them an overly sweet smile as she got up and left.

* * *

Sunday quickly arrived and Lillian, dressed in a flowery knee-length dress, her legs covered in stockings. She made her way to the school's hospital wing and entered, her flats giving away her arrival to the ginger woman waiting patiently for her.

"Lillian! Looking good. How are you today?"

Lillian nodded at her with a small smile. "I honestly am dreading it a bit. I think…I would like to actually talk about the, uh…main thing."

Immediately turning serious, Anna indicated for Lillian to follow her into Madam Pomfrey's office.

Lillian, ever the suspicious one, asked the mind-healer the question that rang warning bells in her mind. "Who gave you permission to use the school-healer's office?"

"Your headmaster, of course."

Lillian just shook her head slowly as she raised her wand, waving it around the room in high arcs. Once she found what she was looking for, she just chuckled mirthlessly. "An eavesdropping spell. Thought so."

"What?!" Anna looked incredulous.

"That's...that's highly unethical! He can't do that! You have to report this! _I_ have to report this!"

"Please do," Lillian muttered as she removed the spell with a swish of her wand. "I'd love to see what the Daily Prophet would have to say about this if they ever got wind of it."

"It doesn't bother you at all?" Anna asked her.

"The fact that he couldn't leave me alone and tried to eavesdrop on what is going to be the most intimate, vulnerable and private conversation I am ever going to have with someone? I expected it. The idea of the only media outlet almost any witch and wizard in England ever read catching wind of this? It amuses me."

Making a noncommittal sound, Anna turned the chair to face Lillian, who sat on the edge of the school healers desk, looking at her expectantly.

Lillian, catching the nonverbal signal, cast a privacy charm around them. She then took a deep calming breath. "The…first time was when I was eight." Lillian looked for a point on the wall across from her to fix her gaze on and when she found it, she continued. "I was scrubbing the floor of the entire house. I was done with the kitchen and the foyer and was almost done with the living room. My back hurt and I made a sound even when I wasn't allowed to." She remembered that day like it was yesterday. Compared to other times it wasn't even the worst day she had had…at least up to the point when she made _that_ sound. "Vernon was watching some sports thing, but when I groaned in pain he turned off the telly and said that I took the fun out of watching the game with my _freakishness_. All I did was groan because my back hurt from scrubbing the floor for three hours without a break."

Lillian, now with a leg crossed over the other, bobbed a foot up and down. She kept staring at the wall, her face a mask lacking any emotions. "He grabbed me by my–," Lillian stopped, shaking her head, "– _his_ _son's_ …sweater and dragged me up the stairs to his bedroom – and I mean _drag_. I bumped against every step and had bruises for weeks. He said he would take back the fun I stole from him. I thought he'd just beat me senseless or belt me or something…which would have been preferable in hindsight." Lillian was quiet for a while, not sure how to continue. She knew it would never happen again and she had experienced the first summer without getting raped, even with that one close call. But actually talking about it made it all seem so immediate instead of those cruel and distant memories they seemed to fade into.

"He never made me use my mouth on him, you know? I don't know why, but once I got an idea of what sex was, what the concept and idea behind sex were, what it was supposed to mean…I mean, men like it, don't they? Oral sex?"

Anna chuckled with a soft smile at the question. "They usually do, yes."

"Yes, well, he never made me do it on him. Not that I'm complaining, but…I don't know. He just went directly for the main prize. It was…extremely painful. But the worst thing was that, until I started my monthlies, he would always finish inside of me. There was nothing else for him other than to penetrate and to dump his load in me. At least he didn't want to knock me up, because he started using condoms once that possibility appeared."

"Condoms?" Anna asked her.

"Mud- uhhh, muggle protection." At Anna's nod, who also pointedly ignored her almost- slipup, Lillian continued. "Every single sexual experience I ever had – and it's been a lot – has been painful. Every single one. I never felt pleasure at any moment. But…I want to. I know Vernon can't touch me anymore. I'm not that weak little girl anymore and he knows it. He's afraid of me and rightly so. But…I need to get past this…barrier or what it is, to have someone touch me and not feel…the way I feel."

"And how do you feel?"

"Sick. It's been getting better…I've had someone…help me put on my bra the day I left for school." Lillian smiled at the memory. "And he slapped my ass. I enjoyed both experiences."

Anna grinned at her. "There you go! What kind of things make you still feel unsafe?"

"Longer physical contact…the idea of someone being between my legs and it doesn't even have to be in a sexual way. Just the position in general."

"It's good that you are aware of these things. That's something to work with,"

Anna said.

Together they made a plan for Lillian to follow and she hoped it would actually help.

Lillian knew it would be a long road to take but she had a schedule she intended to keep.

* * *

**REPORTS OF PRIVACY VIOLATIONS AT HOGWARTS**

**Disturbing news has reached this Reporter of the DP and it still is utterly baffling, even as I am writing this for you, my dear Readers.**

**As we all know, there are many things a person can need in the medical department. But one particular thing has, even in this day and age, people still feel uncomfortable talking about: a mind-healer.**

**Now, news has reached us that a Hogwarts student, whose name was not released to us, has asked for permission for a weekly therapy hour, and for her mind-healer be allowed to enter school grounds. Said student was granted these wishes, which would have been a nice thing by itself, if it wasn't tainted immediately by the allegations that, just before the session, eavesdropping charms were used to listen in on the therapy!**

**How these charms were detected and by whom are still to be released to the public, but the accusers seem to be very confident of their side of the story.**

**The Headmaster, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (O.M. 1st class, Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot) has yet to comment on the issue.**

**We, at the DP, will do our best to keep on top of this issue and wish the Hogwarts student the very best on their way to recovery!**

**Rita Skeeter**

* * *

The following Monday had the wizarding world in an uproar. It didn't take Anna any time to keep her promise to report the headmaster's violation of privacy for the therapy session between Anna and Lillian.

The headmaster was of course immediately contacted by the mind-healer's superiors and, as was the habit of the Daily Prophet, it's reporters didn't waste any time to sniff the blood and have a short article about it on the front page. A lot of things were still held back, but that was okay. It was a blow landed right on the chin of the headmaster.

It was a telling sign that he was missing from the head table during breakfast when the owls brought in the newspaper, and the staff had to squirm under the various glares and glances given them by the student body.

Her self-satisfactory smile disappeared in a startled yelp when an owl landed in front of her, holding out a foot for her. Never before had she received any mail aside from her Prophet subscription. It had never bothered her for she had no desire to share anything or bond with someone in friendship. She needed no pen-pals, nor did she want any. The general solitude she lived with was something that suited her well. It gave her the freedom to pursue what she wanted, do what she desired and feel no obligations and responsibilities for anyone but herself.

Granted, now that she bore the Dark Mark she did have obligations and responsibilities but those were of the kind which she would have no problems fulfilling. Being the Dark Lord's apprentice was something she would not trade for anything.

And the Dark Lord was the only person she could think of who would bother messaging her and, as she touched the parchment, the confirmation came in the burning sensation of her left inner arm. Unrolling the small piece of parchment, there were only two words written:

_'Well done.'_

Feeling pride swell in her chest for being praised by her Master, she put the parchment away in her bag and resumed eating, a smug smirk etched on her face that seemed to be unable to go away.

"What's got you so smug?" Daphne asked her, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I just got praised," Lillian answered in a sing-song voice.

"By who? And why?"

" _'Whom'_ , Daphne. Please." She ignored the Greengrass-princess's rolling of her eyes. "To answer your question, let's just say he is someone who would be awfully pleased if someone managed to weaken Dumbledore's position in the wizarding society even by just a tiny bit."

Eyes widening, Daphne put the pieces together. "You mean-?"

"Yes."

"And that student-?"

"Again, yes. And don't even bother asking – it's called _privacy_ for a reason."

"Well…I should maybe just stay quiet, but I can't help but say that, in the end, it seems to be true that people like you are made and not born," Daphne said carefully, apparently assuming that, considering Lillian did have therapy sessions, she had not always been the sadist the Greengrass heiress had gotten to know over the summer.

So, humming in assent, Lillian cocked her head a bit to the side. "You are not wrong, Daphne." Taking a bite of her French toast and swallowing the mouthful, she spoke up again. "I am but the result of other people's mistakes. But, looking at me now…I almost have to thank them. I would still be a weak little girl if it weren't for the things I had to endure." Finishing up her breakfast and drinking what was left of her water, then wiping her hands and mouth, she got up from her seat. "So, in the end, all turned out well, didn't it? I just need to work out some…kinks, so to speak."

Leaving a curious Daphne behind, she made her way down to the dungeons for her potions class. She knew there were more than just a few _'kinks'_ to work out in her psyche but that was okay.

She was Lillian Potter and Lillian Potter finished what she started, no matter how trying a task it was. Beating her brain's defence mechanisms, overcoming her own psyche – it would just be another thing to add to her flawless track record.

As she neared the classroom, she heard a few Gryffindors speak and, what she caught, had her almost release a loud gasp in excitement. Slowing down and pressing herself against a wall, she strained her ears to catch as much of the conversation as she could.

"- of Mysteries."

"But I thought they said that Potter stopped him from coming back?"

"My mother said that Dumbledore doesn't trust her."

"Well, I've seen her being all cosy with Malfoy in the Express."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Might have been just friendly, but being close to that family is never a good sign."

"That's why she wasn't called in to the Order meetings."

"They re-formed the Order of the Phoenix?"

"Dumbledore must believe that a new war is coming…"

"Exactly. And they've amped up patrols in the Ministry, especially around the Department of Mysteries. My dad is one of them. They are trying hard to guard something there."

Satisfied with what she gathered, for now, she made her presence known, as she walked up towards the classroom and waited, like the rest of the students, for Professor Snape to allow them in.

She couldn't wait for this class to be over so she could go and send an owl to her Master. It would be the first time she would give him this kind of sensitive information and it was so easy to find and gather. That Weasley boy and his big mouth would be the Light's undoing.

Now she just had to figure out a way to code her message in case someone would get his hands on it.

* * *

The potions class passed by quickly and a lot less stressful than last time. She felt herself relax and just enjoyed the low bubbling of the brew in her cauldron while she lost herself in the task. Not even the couple of questions Draco and Blaise dared to ask her threw her off balance and she even civilly answered them.

When the class was over and she handed another perfect looking potion to her Professor she made her way up to the owlery and wrote Lucius Malfoy a quick note he could hopefully decipher. She had all the confidence in her Master and knew it would be easy for him to understand what she wanted to say, but Lucius was another matter entirely.

If worse came to worst, she would just have to elaborate and slash or her Master would arrange a personal meeting so she could explain herself.

After she released the owl she went back down to head to her next class. Umbridge was still sort of an enigma to her. Lillian had known a lot of strange and downright distasteful personalities who thought they could teach D.A.D.A., but none were quite as hard to place into a category as Umbridge. It was obvious that that woman had an agenda, and it was obvious that her loyalties were with the Ministry, or at least the Minister. But the endgame of this whole farce was still very blurry to her.

After everyone entered and took their seats, they were again ordered to take out their books, read a chapter and take notes. That was the entirety of her class so far.

Lillian didn't mind it very much. It was a quiet atmosphere to work in and, since she was a fast reader, she usually finished earlier than others and could work on other assignments.

Once she was finished with her reading, she rummaged through her bag to take out her potions book and start on the essay she was supposed to do when she noticed someone standing at her table.

Looking up, she realized it was Umbridge.

Lillian gave her a questioning look. "Is there a problem, Professor?"

"What are you doing?" Umbridge asked her in that fake and annoyingly sweet voice of hers.

"I finished your assignment and figured I could start on my potions assignment instead of sitting here and doing nothing until class is over."

"You need to ask for permission first, Miss…?"

"Potter." Lillian looked at her in bewilderment and wondered how she didn't know who she was and the answer came quickly as Umbridge's eyes flickered towards her forehead and narrowed in suspicion. Lillian sighed. "That scar's gone, thankfully. Anyways, may I start on my potions assignment, Professor?"

"Very well, _Miss Potter_."

Rolling her eyes after Umbridge turned back towards her desk, she went back to digging for her potions book, but not before shooting a glare at the sniggering Draco and Pansy.

With another sigh, she started on her essay, wondering all the while if Umbridge was going to be a problem this year.

* * *

The next morning, she arrived to a lot of nervous muttering in the Great Hall and, with a raised eyebrow, she sat down next to Draco. "What's going on?"

Draco, with a satisfied smirk, handed her the newspaper and she immediately shared his smirk at the headline. In bold letters, it screamed at the reader ' **Mass Breakout From Azkaban!** '. "This is brilliant," she whispered and Draco nodded in agreement.

"And it seems like you got another letter."

With no small amount of excitement, she took the note from the owl, which had just landed in front of her, and unfolded said note. She started to grin as she read it, the burning in her arm starting to feel more like a comforting warmth.

' _Keep up the good work. We decided to become more proactive after your letter. You will see and hear more soon_.'

"What's it say?" Draco asked her and she gave him a smug look.

"Just people appreciating my efforts." Leaning over slightly and lowering her voice, she spoke in a low whisper. "Things are starting. I overheard Bilius and sent some information to your father. They decided to take action, hence the breakout."

Understanding apparent on his face, he gave her a look that was almost – _almost_ – bordering on admiration. "Not bad, Potter."

"Pretty good, even." She grinned.

"Don't get ahead of yourself."

"I would never think of it." In reality, she thought of it a lot and felt really good right now. Twice already did she get praised by her Dark Lord and it looked like things were finally picking up. Maybe, soon, even this school would experience a shakedown of some sort. It certainly would be entertaining, at least.

She looked around and saw several worried looks on the faces of the student body. Further across the hall, Neville Longbottom seemed to have taken the news particularly bad. Reading the article again, she saw a list with the names of the escaped prisoners and had to stop herself from laughing out loud. That explained a lot!

She glanced at Draco. "Looks like your aunt is a free woman again, Draco. I don't think that Longbottom is going to congratulate you, though"

The blonde boy groaned. "Please don't remind me…that woman is supposedly completely mad, according to my mother. I mean that in the most literal way possible."

"Yes, well…we all have our flaws," Lillian replied airily, before she got up, picked up her bag and made her way to her next class. The next days and weeks sure seemed to become more exciting than she had anticipated.

* * *

Over the coming weeks, Lillian's life at Hogwarts picked up its pattern. First, there were her studies, which she focused on as diligently as ever. Then, her weekend sessions – Saturdays the tutoring, Sundays the therapy.

Between those three things, there wasn't all that much to do. She had her prefect duties and the nightly patrol rotations coming with them, though that wasn't much of a chore.

Bodily explorations were out of the question, considering she had to share her bedroom with the rest of the fifth-year girls.

But soon enough, September made way for October and October for November. Winter arrived and with it, the first snowflakes.

Aside from a few hits from Death Eaters in more or less important locales, her Master still preferred to stay in the shadows. She still waited for direct orders so she could help in any way, but since another few attacks in quick succession in September, after the mass breakout, things quieted down faster than she expected.

She was sure that her Master had his reasons, but still couldn't help the disappointment she was feeling every time she checked for new major attacks in the newspaper only to see that there was…nothing.

But then, something entirely unexpected happened. As she was minding her own business, researching for an Arithmancy essay in the library, some first or second-year student from Ravenclaw came up to her and handed her a slip of parchment, telling her that the headmaster required her presence.

Still wondering what Dumbledore would want from her, the gargoyle statue blocking her entrance. Taking a look at the parchment in her hand, she rolled her eyes. " _Lemon drops_. They don't even taste good, what's his obsession with them…" Lillian muttered as she walked up the circular stairwell. Knocking once at the door leading into the office, she let herself in, barely sparing a glance at the perching phoenix since her attention was drawn to the collection of people inside. Raising an eyebrow, she couldn't help the small smile appearing on her face. "This…is not what I expected when I received your message, Professor."

"Please take a seat, my girl."

 _Ah_ , Lillian thought, _the grandfatherly approach_. She did as she was asked and looked around the office. Remus and Sirius, both old friends of her parents, both firmly loyal to Dumbledore. She felt nothing but a lot of distrust for them, but she still had hoped to be able to live with Sirius. Pettigrew, however, ruined everything and she was forced to endure Vernon and his family for another summer; hence her anger at the graveyard.

Then there were the real Moody, another Auror and, for whatever reason, the Weasley patriarch.

"So…what is this about?" Lillian asked, leaning back against the chair, and crossed one leg over the other while she had her hands folded against her stomach, creating a perfect picture of relaxation.

"Lillian," Sirius began, probably because he thought he might tug at her heartstrings, for he was her late father's best friend and she would desperately latch onto him like a toddler to its mother's teat. "A war is coming and there are signs all over that the Death Eaters are preparing for their Master's return. We need to start sticking together so we can win this, Lils." He smiled at her kindly, probably hoping he could make her warm up to him with endearments.

"First of all: no nicknames, endearments or anything else in that category. Second: I don't care." She glared at them. "I don't care about your war. I care about myself and that is all there is."

"Your parents wouldn't-" Remus began, but Lillian interrupted him.

"My parents are dead, so what they would or wouldn't approve of, what they would or wouldn't think about me – it has absolutely no relevance here. So, don't try to guilt-trip me with the memory of Lily and James."

"They are your mother and father," Arthur Weasley threw in, only earning himself a bored look from her.

"Whom I never knew. I have no memory of them, I don't know what they sound like or even what they look like. At this point, I don't care about it anyway so I never bothered to find anything about them." She shrugged, then examined her fingernails, wondering what approach they would try now.

"Just what happened to you that you have…become like this?" Sirius asked her, a hint of desperation in his voice.

Looking up from her fingernails, she locked her cold eyes on her godfather. "It's none of your concern."

"But it is! I am your godfather!"

"A fancy title with no meaning to me." She looked at Dumbledore, her eyes avoiding his, as she ignored the shocked gasp coming from Sirius. "What is your role in this farce, Professor? Are you just going to observe or are you going to try to secretly use legilimency on me while my heart and resolve are weakened as I am being suffocated by all the emotions caused by the presence of the last connections to my late parents?"

" _What_?!" her godfather roared, causing her to roll her eyes.

Dumbledore simply gave her that infuriating smile of his while all the two Aurors did was to look uncomfortable.

"Pathetic," Lillian spat at them. "You are not even going to pretend that using something like that on students is highly illegal?"

"They merely understand that certain things need to be done for the Greater Good." He gave a brief pause before speaking up again. "What were you doing in the company of the Malfoys in Diagon Alley during the summer?"

"I was hired to tutor their son and some of his friends. Looks like it's only the pureblood children who think that their blood status frees them from their academic responsibilities and the benefits of a good education," she answered without missing a beat. It wasn't a complete lie, at least.

"You do realize that Lucius Malfoy is a known-"

"Death Eater? Yes, everybody knows. So?"

" _So_?!" Sirius looked incredulous. "Death Eaters hate muggles! Your mother was a muggle-born!"

"I don't care. And again, please stop guilt-tripping me with my parents. They are dead and that is all there is to it." She shrugged. "And now, can someone please tell me what this is all about?"

"Your godfather wants you to become a part of…a certain movement. I was against it and, to be frank, unfortunately, you have given me even more reason to believe that I was right in my stance."

"I wouldn't have wanted to anyway. As I said earlier, I only care about myself. I don't care about you, your movement or whatever, Death Eaters, if Voldemort will return or not, if there's going to be a war or not…I can't be bothered with any of…whatever all that is." She waved her hand dismissively at the last part.

"I'm…really disappointed in you, Lils." Sirius looked at her with a sad expression.

Lillian reacted with a shrug. "I'm sure you've been disappointed before. _Anyways_." She got up, letting her gaze sweep through the room. "I've still got an essay to work on and you've taken up enough of my time. I'll see myself out."

* * *

Descending the stairs, she thought if she should write to her Lord or if this was really something to distract him with. The information that Dumbledore didn't trust her was proven by the old man himself now, probably due to her sudden disappearance over the summer, paired with the fact that she had spent significant time at the Malfoy's, something he probably concluded after she had apparently been spied on in Diagon Alley.

 _It could have been worse_ , she thought. _He could have known about Knockturn Alley_.

With new determination, she was about to take a turn towards the school's owlery when she heard hastened steps behind her. Turning around, she let out an annoyed sigh. "What is it?" Lillian asked her godfather. "You do know that, if you get spotted, you will end up back in Azkaban, right – _if you are lucky_?"

"That's why I wanted to ask you to join me for a private chat in an empty classroom?" Sirius gave her a small grin.

"If you'll leave me alone after that chat…" she muttered and motioned for him to follow her.

Not bothering to hide herself or him, she led them through a corridor. Soon, she found an empty classroom they could use.

Sitting on a table and crossing her legs, she looked at him expectantly.

Pacing in front of her a few times, Sirius spoke up. "I feel like…you don't like Dumbledore much."

Lillian scoffed. "So what? Are you trying to make me like him?"

He shook his head. "No, it's your opinion. I thought…maybe you'd be more open without him there."

Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, she asked. "Open about _what_?"

"About what happened to you."

"No," she said without missing a beat. "I won't talk about it. I have someone whom I already talk to and that's quite enough."

"But I am-"

Lillian let out an annoyed groan as she lost her patience with that man, effectively interrupting him. " _I don't care_. I don't care who you are, what you are and what you are trying to be to me! I was alone my whole life and that is fine by me! I have no friends because I don't want any! I have no family and I'm perfectly content with that because no one will bother me about anything! I am free to do as I please and that is perfect for me so please, _please_ just leave me alone!"

"What about the Dursleys? Me? I mean, yes, your aunt-"

"I would slit my throat before I would call that filth my _family_ ," Lillian spat out, her face contorted in an angry grimace. "It makes my skin crawl just to think how that _whore's_ blood actually flows through my veins." She shuddered visibly. "As for you – _yes_ , we actually are related somewhat distantly through Dorea Black and Charlus Potter's marriage and still, I am not interested in…whatever you think we could have going on. Reconnecting, after all this lost time, sharing tales about our Hogwarts mischiefs, et cetera, et cetera…thanks but no, thanks." They were silent for a few moments, Lillian bobbing a foot while looking out the classroom's window, bored, while Sirius looked visibly heartbroken.

"You know…" Lillian spoke up again. "I had hoped to be able to live at your house once you would have been cleared of all crimes, just to get away from that filth I am forced to stay with every summer…but now, to see that Dumbledore has you on a very tight leash…"

"He hasn't."

Lillian laughed humourlessly. "Oh yes, he does, and that alone is reason enough to not be close to you at all…though it is a shame that I'll miss out on all of the books in that famous Black library…" she muttered the last part under her breath. If Sirius had heard her he didn't show it. "Anyways, it was a good chat, but you should leave now." Sliding off the table, she made for the door, stopping and glancing over her shoulder at Sirius. "Don't contact me again, will you?"

* * *

"Did you drink all that on your own?" Remus asked the broken looking man sitting alone at the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place. It was the day after their failed attempt to bond with Lillian, to get her to join the Order. Remus took the way it turned out hard, but he had expected it. He was prepared for Lillian, and even though Sirius should have been too – she had never contacted them and ordered them, after the end of third year, to not contact her either, a wish they obliged with, against their better judgement – he took it even worse than Remus did.

"We failed her, Remus," Sirius said, staring at the table. "We failed her and we failed James and we failed Lily. Something…something happened to her." Sirius looked up at him, his eyes full of guilt and sadness. "I can't accept that she...just is t… _shell of a child_! She should be thinking about boyfriends and dates in Hogsmeade! Instead, she just is…alone! You heard her too! She said she had no friends at all!" He almost wailed, his desperation evident. "She threatened me, Remus…she said I would regret it if I even tried to find out…but we have to. We owe it to James and Lily at least. We just have to…"

"Say, we do try to find out what happened…where do we even begin?" Remus asked, understanding and even sharing his friend's desire to do everything they could to try and help Lillian.

Sirius deflated for a moment before his eyes flashed dangerously. He looked at Remus, his fury burning as he ground out a single name between clenched teeth. " _Petunia_."


	7. Claimed

_Wendigo_

_In the northern forests of the Atlantic Coast in the United States of America lives a monster feared by many and known by few. It is a monster feeding on human flesh._

_Some may say 'there are many beasts in the magical world and many animals in the non-magical world that humans fell victim to.' That is very true, but this monster, this Wendigo, once upon a time was human itself._

_In my time visiting several native tribes in Northern America, including Mi'kmaq, Cree and Naskapi, there had often been talk about Wendigos, as they would only hunt at night. Several of the tribes' medicine-men, and other magic-wielders, would hang out fetishes for protection and every night several would stay up to guard._

_Yet, it still had not been enough._

_I remember to this day, 23 years later, a particular night. It was a cold, freezing winter. The tribe was suffering from famine. There was this one particular hunter; young and still inexperienced. He was still learning to discipline his body and mind to be successful in his craft, to handle bad hunting days, to deal with hunger._

_But he couldn't._

_The tribe was looking for that boy. He was 17 years old at most. A snowstorm – nothing too bad, but enough to cause trouble seeing and hearing one another – had cut him and his partner off from the rest of the hunting group. A couple of days later, when the worst of the storm had been over, another searching party was sent out and I offered to join, which was gratefully accepted._

_It took us several hours to find him...and I wish we didn't. Apparently, he and his partner found a cave to hide out in, but without food and any means of communication, they had nothing but themselves. A bloody rock and the crushed head of his partner made it obvious to me that the young hunter must have killed him in his sleep before he started to feast on his flesh._

_As for the boy; he became nothing but a bizarre and sickening caricature of himself: the rotting smell he emanated, his skin so thin and tight over his bones, his eyes almost disappearing in his sockets…he looked more like a rotting corpse than the fit young man he used to be._

_I still remember the leader of our search party whispering for us to run once he caught sight of that grotesque scene. I still remember running for what felt like hours and hours. I still remember the screams echoing through the forest as that monster hunted down and killed our search party off one by one. Once I felt safe enough to catch my breath I immediately apparated away._

_To this day I do not know what has become of that small tribe. It is said a Wendigo is always hungry. It is said a Wendigo can never stop eating. If those things are true, then the tribe has most likely been entirely devoured._

* * *

"Wow." Closing the book, Lillian got up from her bed, staring at its cover. The author of the book had been a wizard who had gone out of his way to find the darkest creatures around the world that had yet to be documented. Never having heard of those Wendigo beasts before, she now was stunned and fascinated that such monstrosities really existed. It baffled her that they seemed to be existing nowhere but Northern America, which was weird since, apparently, cannibalism played a huge role in their transformation from human to monster. She was sure there had to be Brits who had eaten other Brits at some point in history, but no sighting or anything else regarding Wendigos here had ever been reported – at least to her knowledge.

Checking the time with a groan, she got up from her bed, ignoring the other girls getting ready to sleep. She then went to the Great Hall for her prefect patrol duty, the silence of the castle strange, yet familiar. Sighing in resignation, once she caught sight of that ginger hair, she went on to greet her patrolling partner for the night.

"Let's get this over with, Bilius." Her look of obvious distaste was as clear as a summer's day on this winter's night; her prefect duty forcing her to patrol the castle with the youngest Weasley boy.

"Don't look too thrilled…" Ron muttered under his breath.

"Trust me, I'm not."

Without further comments, the duo started their patrolling and, thankfully, it seemed to be a quiet night.

"Can I ask you something?"

Glancing at Ron, Lillian rolled her eyes in annoyance. "What is it?"

"My dad talked about your chat with him and the Order of…you know, the group of people there," Ron began, stumbling over his words before he almost spilt out the entire name of the group. Even if he did, it wouldn't have been news to her.

"And?"

"I was just wondering…you were supposed to be our champion! Why are you…you know…the way you are?"

"Oh, for the love of –" Lillian began, her temper skyrocketing immediately. They were having such a nice and quiet stroll through the castle, doing their duty without saying a word to each other, and this idealistic fool just had to go _there_ and grind on her nerves with his nonsense. "It is none of your business! Would you people just stop pestering me?! I'll patrol the rest by myself. You can just leave for all I care."

Stomping down the corridor they were in, she left the Weasley boy standing by himself. Once the war would really start, Bilius would definitely be up there in her list of people to kill and she definitely would _not_ use Avada Kedavra on him.

The past week had already been an annoying one, with her monthlies starting and Sirius sending her a letter, telling her that he was planning on visiting her aunt to ask about her. She immediately went to her Head of House to let him know what that mongrel had planned, so he could put a stop to it before it started. The last thing she needed was for that whole Order to know about the humiliation she had to go through since her childhood.

And now that Weasley brat pestered her about it too! Was it just a coincidence or was he tasked by someone to ask her about it if he got the chance? She couldn't tell. She didn't care either.

She was just mad and angry and annoyed.

It made her itch for something – or rather someone – to release her pent-up aggression on. It made her itch to kill. Before Lillian was able to join her Lord's cause, she didn't really think about killing and murdering. Of course, there was the odd animal she had killed when trying out hexes and curses from the forbidden section of the school's library, but they were just that – animals. It still gave her small thrills when she saw the light of life disappearing from their eyes, but compared to when she murdered Cedric while he was staring into her eyes, silently begging for that whole situation to be some sort of sick joke? Or that stranger she experimented blood magic on, cooking his brain with a mere touch of her hand on his scalp once she was finished with him? No, killing actual people gave her a thrill like no other and, she had to admit, she was a bit surprised by how little it bothered her to murder. If she was more like Bellatrix Lestrange, she probably would just go and kill a student right now but, alas, she was a very sane person in comparison. Walking around the castle and killing students just for the thrill of it would do no good and her Lord would probably Crucio her into oblivion if she ever did something that stupid.

Groaning in frustration, she decided that she had fulfilled her prefect duty and turned to head back to the Great Hall to make her way down to the dungeons from there. She couldn't wait for the term to be over.

* * *

"Potter."

Looking up from her homework, Lillian saw Malfoy entering the Common Room and walk towards her before sitting down across from her. "Yes?"

"I just received word from my father that you are to stay with us over the winter holidays."

"Thank you for letting me know."

Secretly, she was relieved to get away from Hogwarts for some time. She couldn't shake off the feeling that Dumbledore had his cronies keep a closer eye on her than she liked. If it wasn't that Weasley brat and Granger mudblood during classes, then it was that old fart himself eyeballing her during her time eating in the Great Hall. It would be great to be away from his attention for a while, even if it was just for a few weeks.

"So, uh…what are you going to say to, _you know_?"

Cocking her head in slight confusion, she looked at Draco, his demeanour trying to be cool but hiding his nervousness poorly. "About what?"

"Our performances…this term."

"Oh." Chuckling slightly, Lillian put her quill down, leaned back in her chair. "I don't have to say anything. Your marks will speak for themselves."

"But-"

"Draco," Lillian interrupted him, "my job was to help you review your classes on weekends and help you if you struggled somewhere. I was not tasked with babysitting you through this year. If you solely relied on me to carry all of you through this term…then you have something to worry about. If you actually worked hard – outside of your sessions with me, that is – and improved, then you have nothing to worry about." Picking up her quill again, she gave the Malfoy heir a small smirk. "I really couldn't care less either way."

Draco huffed, a small scowl appearing on his face. "You never care about anything."

"That's where you are wrong." Countering Draco's angry look with one of her own, she continued. "I care about myself and I care about doing my best to stay in His good graces so my position will never be threatened. The strong prey on the weak, Draco, so I do all I can to be as strong as possible. If you can't do the same, and if you need me to hold your hands the whole time, then you deserve to be the _prey_." Leaning forward a bit, Lillian locked her eyes firmly with Malfoy's. "On the Express you told me about how you want to become better at whatever, how you want to be useful for the future. Right now, basically begging me to put in a good word for you, you don't behave like it. I'm doing my job tutoring you, so you better start doing yours or I'll be looking forward to prey on all of you."

Malfoy was silent after her speech, his eyes cold and his lips pressed tightly together. "One day you'll need our help and you won't get it."

She smiled at him. "I highly doubt that I'll ever need your help, but _if_ the day should come, then I can promise you that you _will_ help me because, if you don't, you'd be signing your death warrant. Anyway, if you are done, I still have my homework to finish."

Without another word, her fellow prefect got up from the table and stalked away angrily, her eyes following him to the couches where he joined his entourage. She shook her head at the glare he sent her way, muttering under her breath. " _Pathetic_."

* * *

Lillian couldn't stop herself from letting out a sigh of relief when she stepped foot into Malfoy Manor. She felt like she was suffocating at Hogwarts, that eyes were following her every step. To be away from that, to _recharge_ was what she desperately needed.

"My Lord!" Immediately going down on a knee, showing her obedience, she greeted her Master.

"It is good to see you have not forgotten how to properly address your better, apprentice."

"I would never forget my place, my Lord."

"Rise."

Getting back to her feet, she looked at her Master and couldn't help the excitement building up inside of her. She was sure she was ready for him to completely make her his. Besides, she promised him that he could bed her during the winter holidays and it would do no good at all to promise something to the Dark Lord and then not fulfil it.

"So it is true, my Lord."

Lillian's head snapped to the side at hearing a voice unknown to her so far, and her eyes widened in recognition. "You must be Bellatrix Lestrange."

"I couldn't believe it when my Lord told me that the Girl-Who-Lived was part of his cause; his _apprentice_ even." Taking a few steps towards Lillian, she lowered her voice just a bit. "I don't trust you filthy, little half-blood."

Lillian's face darkened immediately. "I do not have the patience to deal with you right now." Lillian pushed her way past the mad-woman, then straightened up in front of the Dark Lord, who just observed the little exchange with a bit of amusement. "If you have no need of me right now I would like to go to my room and lay down, my Lord."

"Go ahead. I expect to see you at 8 PM for a full report of the past term."

"Thank you, my Lord."

Ignoring the rest of the group in the foyer, Lillian made her way to the room she had spent the past summer in and emptied her trunk off her clothes and underwear. Not bothering to change, she just went to lie on the bed, her eyes quickly closing and, mere moments later, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Having slept a couple of hours, Lillian woke up feeling more refreshed than she expected and she knew what she wanted from the rest of the night. A quick shower and fresh and pretty underwear later, she made her way to her Master's study, dressed in a comfortable pair of jeans and a simple shirt.

Once she arrived there and knocked on his door, he called her in and her heartbeat started to speed up.

"Apprentice. Come and sit." With a wave of his hand, he motioned for her to take her seat across from him at his desk.

Doing as she was told, Lillian took her seat and waited for the Dark Lord to finish what he was doing.

"So, tell me, how was the past term?" he finally asked her, his dark eyes focused on her.

"It started well enough, but these past few weeks since Sirius Black organized that meeting with me, Dumbledore and several others, has been stressful."

Once her private chat with Sirius was over she wasted no time informing the Dark Lord.

"Severus told me that he informed you about wanting to chat with your muggle aunt."

"Yes. I am actually glad he tried to get on my good side by informing me beforehand. It allowed me to shut that down before it started." Running a hand through her hair, she continued. "I also think that Dumbledore's distrust in me grew a lot more since that meeting. I feel like I have eyes on me wherever I go. They seem to be observing my every step."

"Then you will continue to be nothing more than a Hogwarts student."

"Yes, my Lord."

"How about your extracurricular sessions? How are they progressing?"

"If you are asking how Draco and the others are doing in school: you will have to ask them if they improved their marks, my Lord. I did my job by tutoring them on weekends, but I refuse to coddle them through a whole school year. They should be old enough to do their homework and studies by themselves." Not being able to stop the teasing smile on her face and the excitement pooling between her legs, Lillian leaned forward just a bit. "If, however, you are asking whether I am ready for you to take me to bed then…yes, my Lord. I am ready."

"I agree with you on the first point." Getting up from his chair, he moved around the desk grasped Lillian's left arm before pointing his wand at her forearm, making the Dark Mark reappear. Stroking his thumb over the tattoo, he locked his eyes with her and his voice was rough with pure lust as he spoke. "I want to see it on you when I finally claim you as mine."

* * *

Lillian was feeling overwhelmed with all those new sensations. Here she was, her bare buttocks on the Dark Lord's desk, her small breasts exposed as he suckled on a nipple, her knickers dangling from one ankle while his manhood was pumping away at her between her legs. There was no romance, there was no love and she didn't want any of those. No, this was her Dark Lord claiming what belonged to him – claiming her.

And he was right to do so.

No other man was allowed to touch her the way he was touching her, no other man was allowed to give her the immeasurable pleasure he was giving her. She would kill any man Â or woman for that matter – who would dare to lay a hand on her.

She couldn't help the small moans escaping her as her future Lord Husband changed what once disgusted her into something wonderful, _beautiful_ even. She couldn't help the small laughs escaping her as her mind, almost deliriously, fed her random thoughts. "My Lord –" She panted as he just hit that spot within her. "Imagine…imagine if Dumbledore and his cronies – oh my lord – imagine if they knew – what their champion…what I am doing right now…" A giggle and another escaped her in-between moans and her grin widened when she felt the deep but silent chuckle escaping her master, causing her to dig her nails into is back.

Just a few moments later she felt her stomach tighten as the pleasure reached heights she never knew existed, drawing a long and deep moan from her, and seconds later she felt her Master twitch inside of her. It was a familiar feeling, but this time she loved it. No more would she feel disgusted by sex, no more would she feel scared and humiliated of a man between her legs.

This was glorious; the most powerful man, the most accomplished wizard, the Dark Lord himself, he who defeated death itself – such a powerful man desired her like this. She would relish this feeling from now on. She would desire this from now on.

"Have you protected yourself?" he asked her, his penis still inside of her, but softened by now as she felt his seed slowly leak out of her.

Fully lying on his desk, her face flushed and her hair sticking wetly to her face, she nodded at him. "Yes, my Lord. As much as I would enjoy carrying your offspring I did imagine that getting impregnated now would be very badly timed."

"Good."

* * *

Freshly showered, Lillian waited for the Dark Lord to get out of the shower himself. A few moments later he appeared and seemed surprised to still see her there. "I hope you do not expect to spend every night with me now, apprentice."

Blinking in surprise, Lillian chuckled lightly. "No, my Lord, of course not. I was just meaning to talk to you about something I very recently read, something that fascinated me greatly."

Almost looking relieved, to Lillian's amusement, the Dark Lord leaned against the desk, crossing his arms and looking down her. "Now I am intrigued. What is it?"

"Have you ever heard about _Wendigos_?"


	8. Loose Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has quite a bit of disturbing content. Appropriate warnings are in place, so, feel free to skip those scenes. The usual thanks for follows, favs and reviews!

The fire was crackling away and providing comfortable warmth for the library while Lillian was lounging lazily on a couch. She was reading a book from the Malfoy's library and snacking on cookies, baked by the Malfoy's house-elf.

It was a few days after Christmas, though it was not celebrated here. The Malfoys seemed to be abhorring any muggle holidays and preferred to celebrate Yule instead, though they did it in private and away from the frowning public eye. Narcissa was willing enough to explain to her that Yule was the celebration of the winter solstice, of renewal and rebirth, of the sun making its way back to earth.

Lillian found it interesting enough to observe some of it, but since she never celebrated anything – ranging from her own birthday to any holidays that existed, be they magic or muggle in their origins – she didn't feel any desire to really participate. The Dark Lord himself _did_ participate, though he didn't order her to join him. He gave her a nod, seemingly silently understanding her position, but that was it.

She was about to reach for another cookie when she neither felt the bowl nor the cookies. Forced to look away from her, she found the bowl in the hands of Draco, who helped himself to one.

"Can't deny it, Dobby's baking skills are something else."

"Indeed, they are, Draco, and, since he is your house-elf, you can simply order him to bake your own batch. Like I did."

"Don't get mad, Potter. Dobby will always be ready to bake more – it's not like he has anything better to do. Anyway, the Dark Lord wants to see you."

"Alright then." Putting a piece of parchment between her book, she got up from the couch and stretched, exposing her midriff and making the sleeves of her sweater slide down a bit. She was startled when she suddenly felt Malfoy grab her left arm. "Draco…" Her voice was threateningly low.

"When did you get this?" He asked her indignantly.

She raised a brow at him. "September 1st, just before we left for Hogwarts."

Yanking her arm out of his grasp, Lillian started to make her way to her Master's office. Draco followed her out, seemingly not done with his questions yet.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Laughing, she gave the Malfoy heir an incredulous look. "Why in the world should I have? It's not like I owe you any explanations for anything, neither am I supposed to report to _you_." She stopped walking for a moment and looked him up and down with a humourless smile. "Besides, if we are going to go down _this_ road and look at our respective statuses, _you_ should be reporting things to _me_. Granted, for the most part, you do so – like the good boy you are."

Malfoy was blushing furiously after she called him a _good boy_ , his face contorting in suppressed anger. "What did you even do to deserve it?"

Lillian jutted her chin out. "I became his apprentice. I follow his orders and have yet to disappoint him. I am incredibly well-read, exceptionally smart, ruthless and I do not care for petty morals. My thirst for knowledge is unquenchable, no matter how dark and dangerous that knowledge is. I have two kills under my belt already and can't wait to add to that number. Did I tell you that I have a list of people I want to kill? Don't worry, you are not on it," she finished, an almost feral grin adorning her face.

" _Two_? What two murders? You only killed that one muggle and he was begging for it."

"Cedric of course."

"Diggory? But my father said- "

"What? That _he_ did it? Seriously, Draco? You and I both know very well that your father does not like to get his hands dirty.."

They reached their – or at least her – destination and stopped, Draco looking deep in thought. Lillian gave him a look, then reached a conclusion – not without a resigned sigh but, to her, a good and promising conclusion with potential for more nonetheless.

Putting her hands on his shoulders, she forced him to look at her. "Draco," she began, retrieving her hands from him and crossing them over her chest, leaning against the door behind her. "I have to admit, after getting to know you a little bit better these past months I don't find you as obnoxious as before. You still are a spoiled little shit, to be crude, and I say this with all the affection I can possibly muster."

"You mean none?" Draco asked with a blank look and Lillian was sure it was a rhetoric question.

She shrugged with a grin. "My point is: I know your problem."

"What problem?" Malfoy asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Your father. He influenced you too much, spoiled you too much, gave you the wrong directions about what things to prioritize in your life. You value your blood status, your family tree, your money, the political power of the Malfoy name too much. You rely on those things too much, even after I spoke to you about it several times these past months. It's disappointing."

"I still don't get your point."

"Remove yourself from the shackles your father put on you. Follow my lead and you will gain our Lord and Master's favour. You have potential Draco. You only have to grasp it. Time is ticking."

"I –"

"You have time until the end of this term to decide if you still want to be your daddy's spoiled little shit or if you want the Dark Lord to see that you follow the opportunity and example his very own apprentice presents to you." Lillian paused for a moment to think, then nodded. "If you still have no answer until then, the offer dies and you are on your own to see where you will end up in a year or two."

With that, she left the boy standing and entered her Master's office after knocking and being called in. She closed the door behind herself and kneeled.

"You are late, apprentice."

"Yes, my Lord, and I apologize. After Draco saw the Dark Mark on me we got into a little argument about me deserving it or not deserving it and I ended up offering him an opportunity he would be a fool to reject."

"Rise and sit. And what opportunity would that be?"

She got up and sat across from her master at his desk, feeling comforted and at peace in his presence. "He removes himself from his father's protective bubble and becomes useful by following me, ultimately becoming something of a more direct subordinate to me. He has potential but he is too lazy and comfortable to utilize it."

"An ingenious idea, apprentice. I approve." Leaning back in his chair, he looked her up and down, making her insides clench in the best of ways. "I must admit, it really started to grate on my nerves when Lucius simply would not shut up about his son and how I should utilize him and how talented he is. If young Malfoy takes your opportunity and improves in, well _…everything_ fast enough, then I just might have a reason to cave in to Lucius' wishes. Now, to the matter at hand. Or matters, to be precise. We have a problem and it is your godfather."

"He is still trying to get to my muggle relatives?"

"Yes. While your distasteful past is not necessarily a problem, it still can be utilized by Dumbledore's followers. It might weaken his position, it might not, but we do not want you in the spotlight like this. We want you to be a Hogwarts student, nothing more, nothing less. You will have the pleasure of killing those who tortured, abused and humiliated you, apprentice."

"Really?" Her eyes widening in excitement, she already felt herself anticipating that thrill murdering and torturing provided her with. There was one thing to consider, however. "But…what if the public starts talking about me basically being an orphan? Thanks to that _rat_ I can't even live in the Black manor. Dumbledore will have several of his followers apply for my adoption."

"I am aware of that. Our goal is to publicly announce my return by the end of this term so hopefully, the ministry will be too busy to bother itself with a child's adoption, even if that child is Lillian Potter. We probably will join our bloodlines by then, but in case we do not, if our hand is forced, I will simply have Lucius adopt you."

She physically cringed at the possible adoption by the Malfoys, but, ultimately, it was still better than the Weasleys.

"Do you remember when I promised you your own Death Eater uniform?" He suddenly asked her, a small smirk on his face.

"Yes, my Lord! Do you have it already?"

"Indeed, I do."

Getting up from his chair, he opened a cabinet and removed a neatly folded uniform, then handed it to her.

"Try it on."

Lillian didn't waste a moment removing her clothing and putting on the mixture of cloth and leather. The uniform was completely black, as were the foot soldiers', but while the several clasps on their uniform was a basic silver, hers were gold. Several gold seams accentuated and distinguished her uniform further in addition to its golden clasps. Then, there was also the mask. From what she saw in the graveyard, the masks were individualized for every Death Eater and hers was no different in that regard. Her's, completely black like the uniform, had golden accents as well. Those were outlining the slits for the eyes.

It was so simple, yet so threatening and mysterious at the same time.

"It's beautiful my Lord. Thank you so much." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"You are quite welcome, apprentice. Use it well."

"Oh, I will." She looked up at her master with adoring eyes and he returned it with hunger. Lillian knew how she would thank her master for those gifts once she returned.

"One last thing before you are ready, apprentice. Do you know how I defeated death?"

She cocked her head to the side. "No, my Lord."

"Then sit and listen well, and if you ever drop a word of this to anyone who should not be aware of my biggest secret, then I will destroy you."

She didn't even bat an eye at his threat; it was justified after all. "Of course, my Lord."

"Good. The word you are looking for is _'Horcrux'_." He paused for a moment, his cold, dark eyes firmly locked on hers. "Essentially, they are objects in which I stored pieces of my soul, anchoring myself to life. To be able to do so you have to kill people – a pure soul. Someone innocent…which you did. Twice. Your school friend, Cedric something and that mudblood. I picked him with this in my mind."

"You want me to splinter my soul?" Lillian asked, her heart speeding up.

Immediately, the Dark Lord's face darkened, his tone dropping threateningly. "Is that a problem, _apprentice_?"

"Of course not, my Lord!" Lillian replied immediately. "Becoming immortal? Defeating death? Who in their right mind would not want this?"

"Good. You and I will change the magical world over generations, apprentice." His eyes wandered off, just for a moment, and she wondered what he had been imagining in those brief moments. His attention then returned back to her. "I will not allow more than two Horcruxes. I…became unstable after four and yet I kept going. You shall not suffer the same way and I do not wish to bed a husk of a woman. Remain as intelligent, mentally sound and attractive as you are, Lillian. Even when immortal."

She couldn't help the blush covering her cheeks. Her Lord would indeed receive her thanks. "Of course, my Lord."

"I prepared the ritual in the basement. All you must do is choose a vessel for it. Make sure it is something worthy of your status as my apprentice as well as your bloodline."

Lillian didn't think about it and simply touched the mask with the tip of her wand, doubling it once and immediately stopping the spell, handing the original to her Master. "Nothing represents who I am, what I am and who I belong to more than the mask of the Death Eater, who is also the Dark Lords apprentice, my Lord."

"Very well spoken, apprentice. The duplication mask will do for tonight. I will prepare another one for the time you will need it. Let us go down to the basement."

It didn't take them long to reach the ritual site and Lillian had to do a double-take. "Is that- "

* * *

**WARNING: SHORT DESCRIPTIONS OF CANNIBALISM**

* * *

"The muggle from your blood ritual? Indeed. I preserved his body since we needed it. A simple preservation charm did the trick as it would do no good for you to eat the flesh of a rotten corpse."

Lillian was not sure she heard her Master's words correctly. "I'm not sure...could you repeat that, my Lord?"

He looked at her from the corner of his eyes. "To complete your violations of nature and to activate the ritual you must commit one more crime against nature. It can be a series of things." He chuckled, then turned to fully look at her. "Admittedly, not even I am comfortable with those things, but I did what I had to do to become powerful. I figured, given the choices, biting off and swallowing one chunk of flesh off my victims will be the quickest and least distasteful thing to do to reach my goals."

Lillian swallowed. "I...understand…I can do it, my Lord."

Seeing him nod at her, she made her way towards the body, her mind reeling with what she was about to do. Was she really willing to commit cannibalism to become immortal? Was she really willing to step so far into the darkness to defeat death, knowing that there was no way out of this ever again?

No, she knew those questions were pointless. Her actions were already providing the answers as she was kneeling next to the body, sinking her teeth into his soft abdomen. The blood was spilling slowly from the wound, tainting her lips, teeth and tongue. Ignoring the coppery taste and smell invading her senses, she dug her teeth even deeper into his flesh and pulled as hard as she could. The sound of ripping flesh filled the basement and a green light started to appear, blinding her. Still kneeling there, with the flesh of her blood ritual victim in her mouth, she swallowed.

* * *

**WARNING END**

* * *

Suddenly, around her, a ritual circle started to form. The most complex runes she had ever seen appeared in various positions and black candles were lighting up with black fire. The green light started to intensify and she felt pressure, deep inside of her very core and pressure all around her, making it almost impossible to breathe. It felt as if something did not want her to leave the circle she was kneeling in while, simultaneously, something wanted to break out of her.

The circle's glowing and the pressure inside of her and around her, it all intensified with every passing second until an unnatural shrieking was rattling her skull. Then, through all of this, she could make out the blurry form of her master pointing his wand at her. Suddenly, she felt something being ripped out of her and, while she couldn't hear anything, she felt her throat getting sore from screaming in unbearable pain.

And then, just like that, everything calmed down. Lillian was lying on her side in a fetal position, whimpering. Never before had she experienced something like this and, seconds after it happened, she wasn't sure if she wanted to go through this for a second time. She felt a hand brush her hair from her face before cupping her cheek.

"You did well, apprentice. Very well, even. I will cover this very first Horcrux of yours in multiple curses after accompanying Rodolphus Lestrange to his family vault to hide it there. It is one of the best protected there is at Gringotts." She saw him crouch down next to her. "How do you feel? How is your mind?"

She waited a moment, examining herself, thinking things through, doing simple maths in her head and, for now, she didn't seem to have any troubles mentally. "I...think I am fine, my Lord…" She mumbled. "I am in pain."

"It is indeed the most painful thing I have ever had to experience. Not even feeling my body getting destroyed after attempting to kill you as an infant comes close to ripping a piece of your soul out of your body."

Lillian chuckled weakly before slowly forcing herself to get up, a lot of groans and moans accompanying that process. "I'm not sure I want to do that again, my Lord."

"It is not a must, but an option for you to have another Horcrux."

"I will think it through, my Lord. _Very thoroughly_."

Once they exited the basement, they were greeted by Lucius, Narcissa and Draco. The Malfoy's had apparently waited outside of the basement and were wide-eyed, seemingly torn between wanting to know and not wanting to know what exactly had happened in their basement. After seeing her blood-stained mouth, extremely pale skin and how weak she looked they probably opted for the latter.

The Dark Lord looked at them, then focused on Lucius. "Tell Nagini there is food for her in your basement. Do not enter it for tonight if you know what is good for you."

Then, Lillian felt herself being led to her bed.

* * *

"Apprentice. It is time."

Her eyes fluttered open as 'her' bedroom slowly came into focus after her couple of hours of napping. Slowly, but surely, memories returned of what she had done. She had committed cannibalism. She tore her soul apart to become immortal. She actually took part in what probably was the darkest, the blackest of all magical rituals that ever existed.

But, she was essentially immortal now. She could not be killed; not really. That piece of her soul anchored her to this plane of existence.

"It does take some time to actually understand what you have done, doesn't it? It did for me at least."

Lillian looked at her master, who was sitting at the corner of her bed, his hand resting low on her hip. She liked it there. "Yes…it does. But I'm not regretting it."

"As you shouldn't. Now come, you have family to kill, apprentice," he said and got up from her bed. She immediately missed the possessive weight of his hand on her body.

"I will be ready in a minute, my Lord, " she called after him, then scrambled out of her bed.

Quickly, after washing her face and taking her duplication mask, her Master and she went back to his office, where Bellatrix and Barty Crouch Jr. waited for them.

After closing the door behind them, the Dark Lord spoke up immediately. "I will accompany you at first. If I know Dumbledore at all, then your relative's house will be extensively warded. There is nothing I cannot remove, however, so that will be what I will do. You two –" he looked at Bellatrix and Barty, "– will accompany her, guard her and bring her back safely. Dumbledore will probably know, one way or another, when his wards have been removed, so at least someone to check in on the muggles will arrive at some point. When that happens, apprentice, and your relatives are still more or less alive, _you will_ Avada Kedavra them and leave with Bellatrix and Barty. You will not engage in combat with them."

"So, we only babysit Potter?" Bellatrix complained. "Where is our fun, my Lord?"

"Trust me when I say that watching my apprentice work is entertaining enough. It is up to her, however, if she wants to share her relatives. I gave this to her because it is personal."

"Thank you, my Lord. It is most appreciated."

He nodded once. "Let us leave then."

Moments later she, her Master and her guards arrived at the playground Lillian had described to Narcissa during last summer. Without wasting further time, they made their way to Privet Drive. As soon as it came to vision her Master started to move his wand in complex patterns, constantly murmuring under his breath as she saw flickering after flickering in the sky around the house. This easily went on for a few minutes when, finally, he nodded at them and disapparated.

"Finally," Lillian mumbled under her mask and made a beeline to the house, to the people she abhorred like no other. With a wave of her wand, she silenced a wide area around the house, then blasted the door open with a spell. Lillian didn't look if Bellatrix and Barty followed their Master's orders. She marched upstairs, only to meet Vernon halfway with a baseball bat in his hands. She immediately cast a binding spell, not bothering to look after him as his bound body tumbled down the stairs. Once she reached the master bedroom, she also bound the scared Petunia and levitated her screaming and struggling aunt to the living room. Then, she returned to the stairs to do the same with Vernon. Once her uncle and aunt were prepared, she finished off the reunion by doing the very same thing with Dudley.

Soon enough, everyone was in the living room. She took a seat on a couch, motioning for Crouch Jr. and Bellatrix to do the same. Then, her attention was solely on her relatives.

"I will call the police! Leave this instant!" Vernon, his head taking on that ugly purple colour, started to shout.

Getting up from the couch, Lillian walked in front of the family and crouched to get face to face with the man, the fuel of her anger and hatred. "Do you even understand how long I have been hoping for this moment to arrive, you filth?" Lillian said, then removed the mask to reveal herself to the Dursleys, who all immediately went as white as humanly possible. "I don't have to let you live anymore." She couldn't suppress the smile forcing its way on her face. "I have permission to kill you. The Dark Lord assigned this task _specifically_ to me."

Vernon spluttered, his panic so very obvious. "Wait! You are not really- you can't!"

Lillian almost purred at the fear she could practically taste coming off of every single one of the Dursleys. "Oh, I can and I will." She then turned to Bellatrix and Barty. "I have heard so many stories about you two. Could you tell me the best way to start killing off an entire family? There has got to be a system or something to get the most out of it."

Bellatrix started to laugh at that. "Potter, I might actually find this fun after all! Always start with the children. Parents hate seeing their babies getting hurt."

"And drag it out!" Barty threw in.

"Oh, yes, most definitely. Torture that fat boy for a bit, let him scream until his parents can't stand listening to it anymore."

"Why don't you do it, Bellatrix?" Lillian offered

The mad witch cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at her. "Don't you have the guts to do it yourself, Potter? I thought this was _personal_."

"Crucio!" Lillian's wand was pointed at her cousin, but her eyes were locked with Lestrange's. Dudley's screams filled the living room and he squirmed in pain, his muscles convulsing against the binding ropes. His parents screamed at her to stop, Petunia begging under tears.

Lillian lifted her wand, releasing Dudley's whimpering form from the torture. "I _do_ have the guts. I just wanted to be nice and I wanted to see your work. Besides, what I really want is him." She nodded at her trembling uncle.

"Hm." Bellatrix didn't apologize, nor did Lillian expect her to, but her eyes on her now shone with curiosity. Once Bellatrix was focused on Dudley though, they took on a mad and murderous gleam. "It's been so long since I had a toy to play with. Let's begin, little piggy."

* * *

**WARNING: GRAPHIC SCENES OF TORTURE**

* * *

Lillian knelt next to Petunia, forcing her tear-streaked face towards Bellatrix and her son, as the mad witch used several cutting spells on him as a starter. "This lady," Lillian began, "she's been in wizarding prison for years. You want to know why?" Her aunt tried to shake her head no, but Lillian didn't care. "Because she used the torture spell I used on your pig of a son for so long on a family, they went mad. Their brains don't function anymore. They are hospitalized for the rest of their lives. No one tortures as she does. No one enjoys hurting others as she does."

"Please leave my baby alone…" Petunia sobbed, crying and closing her eyes but Lillian forced her eyelids back open.

"I enjoy it because it is fun to see them squirm and writhe in pain!" Bellatrix shouted before she used a severing charm and cut off one of Dudley's arms before doing the same to every other limb. Her cousin looked so deeply in shock, Lillian wasn't sure how aware of his situation he even was anymore.

"Keep watching, you whore. You enjoyed watching me suffer for years, so…keep…watching." Lillian whispered in her ear before turning to Barty. "Barty, how long has it been since you had had a good shag?"

"Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?" He asked, licking his lips as his grin turned feral.

"Up to you. She's yours."

Standing up while unzipping his pants, Barty walked to Petunia, ignoring her whimpering and begging. "We are going to have fun, _muggle_..."

Lillian tuned out the rest of the room when she turned her attention to her personal prey. " _You_. Finally." She couldn't help the hatred and despise welling up, causing a turmoil inside of her that forced tears flowing down her cheeks. The man of her nightmares stared at her, a mixture of hate and dread on his face. "Your torture is seeing your son being cut to pieces and your wife getting raped…before I cut her to pieces too. Watch carefully and don't miss a thing."

He looked enraged, struggling to get out of his binds. "You freak…I'll _kILL YOU_!"

"You won't even be able to kill a fly in your situation." She just looked at Vernon for a while, her eyes narrowed, her hands clenched into fists. "I understand now that you feared me. What I am, what I can do." She scoffed. "You will never understand that I – my kind – that we are your superiors in _everything_. We have a power you can only dream of. _You_ are simple-minded. Animals. Worthless. Insects I step on."

"Potter, I think your cousin is dead."

Vernon cried out, causing Lillian to give him a confused look. "Oh, please _uncle_! What did you expect? He had his arms and legs cut off." Lillian then waved her wand once and, with a bang, summoned a large snake. " **Eat, my friend**."

Silently, the snake started to devour the body parts that once were Dudley.

"You speak parsel?" Lestrange asked in obvious shock and surprise.

Lillian nodded. "Yes, I too am related to

Slytherin."

"But- "

"I did not choose my mother, Bellatrix. If it were up to me I would have had a pureblooded bloodline just like you or the Malfoys, but, alas, I am related to _these_ creatures." Returning her attention to Barty, she saw him put away his pride and glory back inside his pants. "I see you are done, Barty. Oh, wow, how did you manage to bleed her like that?" Lillian almost winced at the bloody mess between Petunia's legs, before shrugging. "Oh, who cares, we are on the clock." She summoned another snake. " **This woman is your feast today**. **Enjoy it**."

The serpent hissed its thanks and quickly sank its fangs into Petunia's face, who didn't even really seem to register. The potent venom of the magical snake almost instantly killed her, her breathing rushing to shallow and then stopping completely in seconds, and the snake started to devour her from her head, her aunt slowly vanishing into the snake's gaping mouth.

Lillian grinned and turned to her uncle who just stared blankly ahead. "What do you say, Vernon? Your family is nothing but snake food. Vernon? Hey?" She nudged him with her boot but the man seemed broken, didn't react. "Hey? Tell me, was all this worth doing the things you did to me? Hey?" She nudged him again. "Oh well." She took a few steps back and aimed a powerful _bombarda_ at him, causing his limbs and guts to fly around the room and painting the wall behind him in a gory red.

With a flick of her wand, she set the rest of him aflame, then put her mask back on.

She watched the pieces of her uncle, the man who stole everything from her, burn.

This was it; she closed a loose end – no, she closed _the_ loose end of her life. The single thing she needed to do to fully commit her life to the Dark Lord.

Today had been a good day…probably the best of her life.

She at least got Malfoy to doubt the path he was taking in life, hiding under his father's influence. She became immortal; at least to some extent. She finally, _finally_ got to kill the man she wanted to kill most. Staring into the inferno that slowly started to spread around his body, taking in the smell of his burning flesh…it finally was over.

* * *

**WARNING END**

* * *

It was good. It felt good.

"Who- Oh merlin!"

Three heads simultaneously snapped towards the voice and Lillian wasted no time to use her wand. Silently she vanished the two fed snakes along with their food and cast _fiendfyre_ before turning towards her guardians. "Let's leave."

Barty left on his own and Bella grabbed her arm, disapparating with her after Lillian cast one last glance at Arthur Weasley being chased by her bewitched inferno.

* * *

"Apprentice." The Dark Lord opened the door to his study slash living quarters, letting her in.

Lillian entered and removed her mask, dropping it on a desk before vanishing it.

"I hope everything went well?"

"Yes, my Lord. The response of the order was fairly late. Bellatrix cut my cousin to pieces before I fed them to a snake…Barty raped my aunt bloody before I fed her to another snake…and I left Vernon untouched through all of this so he could see and hear them. Then I blew him up and burned what was left of him. Arthur Weasley arrived at some point, but alone. Or he was the first to arrive, I'm not sure." She shrugged. "Anyway, the snakes were mostly done eating, so I vanished them and then I cast fiendfyre before we left."

"I thought I told you not to engage them, " the Dark Lord said, cupping her cheeks forcefully, hurting her.

Her eyes widened a bit in fear. "I-It was not really engaging, my Lord!" Lillian explained hastily. "It was a distraction! The flames chased him so he couldn't attack us!" Her master's grip loosened a bit and she couldn't help but exhale a bit in relief. "If he dies, Dumbledore loses an avid follower. If he doesn't he'll just be dead another day."

The Dark Lord appeared to be contemplating her explanation, then released her. "I will let it slide, apprentice, but I expect you to follow my orders _to_. _The_. _Letter_. Understood?"

Lillian dropped to a knee in apology. "Yes, my Lord. I meant no insubordination."

"Good."

She then looked up at her Master with a cheeky grin and adoring eyes. "My Lord…while I am in this position, I thought it would be a good moment to show you my gratitude for everything you did for me today."

"Oh?"

"If you don't mind, of course."

The Dark Lord looked at her from above as her nimble hands unzipped the fly of his trousers and fished for his manhood. He buried a hand deep in her locks and, painfully, forced her to look up at him while she was holding his growing erection. "You look good like this, apprentice."

Grinning up at him, Lillian slowly started to stroke him as her Master stumbled backwards and into his chair. "I hope you will enjoy this, my Lord. Just relax. This is all about me thanking you."


	9. Interlude 2

Lillian was lying on her Master's bed, naked and sweaty, her thighs sticky with her own wetness and the Dark Lord's ejaculate. Her breathing was still a bit shallow, but her face bore a content smile as she stretched, purring at the still-new feelings of pleasure her Master provided her with. A slight gasp escaped her as she felt her still hard nipples being caressed, causing her to look up and see the naked and freshly showered Dark Lord looking at her body hungrily.

"Do you want another round, my Lord?" She asked as she spread her legs invitingly, a sultry smile on her face.

Pulling his hand away, he shook his head. "As much as I would love to, I have to accompany Rodolphus to Gringotts to hide your Horcrux. You wear me out too much, apprentice."

Not hiding her self-satisfied smile, Lillian replied with a small giggle. "I'm not going to apologize for that, my Lord."

"And I don't expect you to. I should also inform you that your year-mates will arrive later today, so you can review the past term with them. Aside from Crabbe and Goyle, they all improved to some extent, so keep up the good work."

"Understood, my Lord." Her eyes then suddenly widened when she remembered something. "My Lord! May I ask you something I have been wondering about?"

He looked at her with obvious curiosity and motioned for her to continue while putting on his clothing.

Lillian rolled over to her side and propped up her head with a hand. "Do you remember when I spoke to you about Wendigos?"

"Yes, I do."

"I've been wondering…since you and I have consumed human flesh for Horcruxes, even if they were only small bites…shouldn't that have changed us to some extend? Especially you, since you must have done it several times. I mean, in the book I've read it isn't explicitly stated that the committing cannibalism results in becoming a Wendigo, but the interpretation is pretty clear in my opinion. There have to be people in Great Britain who must have consumed a whole human but…" She shrugged.

Her Master looked thoughtful while buttoning up his shirt, standing in front of a full-body mirror. Adjusting his collar, he finally spoke. "I see where you are coming from and it is indeed a fascinating topic. It seems to me that these Wendigos – or the process of turning into one – seem to be an occurrence tightly tied Native American culture."

"I've thought about that possibility as well…though in what way is it tied, I wonder."

"I shall visit some stores in Knockturn Alley and see if there is something to be found about this…"

"Thank you, my Lord," Lillian said before sinking back into her Master's bed and pulling up the blanket over her body. She then stretched once more, resulting in a series of satisfying pops running up her back when she felt the Dark Lord grasp her left arm, running his thumb over the Dark Mark forever tattooed into her skin. He did that a lot of times, whether he was shagging her or not, and she didn't mind it one bit; in fact, she took great enjoyment of her Master still being so utterly fascinated by the fact that the light's golden girl bound herself to him forever in every way. It even seemed to arouse him if the bulge she was massaging through his trousers was any indicator.

"Lillian Potter, what would your parents say if they knew you were warming the Dark Lord's bed?" he asked her, his breathing shallower.

Lillian, now on her knees on the bed, the blanket long since revealing her bare skin again, smiled up at him. "I'm pretty sure they would say that they have no daughter anymore," she whispered as she pressed her breasts into the Dark Lord's clothed chest while she opened the fly of his trousers with one hand, struggling a bit but managing all the same. "They would also be publicly shamed, probably shunned from their friends and the wizarding society as a whole," she continued. Having found her Master's growing erection, she slowly and sensually stroked him in her soft hand. "I would probably be called the Dark Lord's whore, newspapers would talk about nothing else for months." Her Master released her left arm, allowing her to get comfortable on her knees as she grinned up at him before running her tongue over his penis.

He buried his hand in her dark locks, slowly urging her to completely take him into her mouth. "I thought I told you that I have somewhere to be, apprentice."

Lillian couldn't suppress the chuckle escaping her, even as she pleasured her Master's erection with her tongue and mouth. She simply answered him with a shrug of her shoulders as she redoubled her efforts to make him release his seed faster. The teen relished the noises of pleasure her efforts forced out of her Dark Lord, she relished the smell and taste of him, the strong grip he had in her hair, painful and pleasurable at the same time.

Soon enough she heard the, by now familiar, sounds of her Master reaching his climax and the first spurts of his ejaculate landed on her tongue and, not wanting to make a mess on his fresh clothes, she quickly swallowed. After the first time she did this, she spit it out in a sink; it wasn't a terrible taste but not really pleasant either. But this time, she swallowed all the same.

Once finished, she released him from her mouth and quickly grabbed a tissue from the night table to clean him up before she put his now flaccid penis back in his trousers and zipped up his fly. She then smiled up at her Master. "You should be good to go now, my Lord."

"You are becoming very greedy, apprentice." He still sounded out of breath.

"I'm sorry, my Lord…you just seem to be irresistible," Lillian replied with a coy smile.

The Dark Lord allowed himself a small chuckle as he cupped Lillian's cheek, a gesture of his she greatly enjoyed. "Be sure to not miss the other children's arrival, apprentice."

"Yes, my Lord. Have a good day out."

* * *

Lillian woke up from her nap an hour later. While feeling icky with her Master's and her own bodily fluids clinging all over her, she still felt incredibly refreshed and satisfied. She had to shower though and she definitely needed to brush her teeth to get that taste out of her mouth.

After getting up from the bed, she quickly went to her Master's bathroom and took her shower. She then slipped into a fresh pair of knickers she took with her from her own bedroom. Once properly cleaned up and clothed, she left for her own bedroom to brush her hair and teeth. Since last summer, she made sure it didn't grow past her jawline since she found it too annoying to deal with her thick hair when she let it grow. Besides, her shorter hair was just as pretty.

Soon enough, she made her way to the living room where she found Draco. "When are the others due to arrive, Draco?"

"Should be any moment now."

"Alright then." The teen made her way next to him and sat down beside him, waiting for his entourage to arrive. They were silent for a few moments, Draco looking deep in thought while Lillian simply looked bored.

The Malfoy heir then broke the silence. "May I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"The other day…what did you do in our basement?"

Turning to face him, Lillian looked straight into Malfoy's eyes. "If you were supposed to know, you would. Trust me, you do not want to know this."

Malfoy was about to protest when the fireplace lit up and the first Slytherin students stepped through. Giving him one last meaningful look, the apprentice returned her attention to her year-mates, waiting for everyone to arrive. One by one the students came through, followed by their parents. Narcissa also entered the living room to be as gracious a hostess as was expected of her, accompanied by her sister Bellatrix, with Lucius presumably being out for some kind of ministry business.

Lillian knew that Bellatrix Lestrange was her Master's right-hand woman right now and she respected that. The woman may be crazy, despite her lucid moments, but her devotion to the Dark Lord's cause was admirable. At the same time though, that devotion was also what made the Dark Lord wary of her because it could border on obsession. While devotion was expected, even demanded of his followers, obsession was seen as a liability. Lillian fully expected herself to replace Bellatrix as her Master's right-hand once the time arrived, but for now she knew that she still had a lot to learn. She would just keep applying herself to the best of her ability, which she knew was quite a lot, and bide her time. It _would_ come.

Once Narcissa was done greeting her guests Lillian got up from her seat, effectively silencing the chatter and drawing the attention to herself. The adults still mostly gave her distasteful looks, the children on the other hand knew for the most part what she was capable of.

"Greetings, everyone," she began. "I expect all of you to know why you are here. The Dark Lord has reviewed your marks of the past half-year and was actually pleased that almost everyone improved to some extent, which in turn pleased me because I did not get punished for anyone's laziness." There was some obvious relief going on, making Lillian chuckle lowly. "I, personally, am pleased to see that those who have improved _apparently_ realized what is at stake and that a proper education is only helpful. All that being said, tomorrow, after breakfast, the review sessions will begin. Use today to catch up and whatever else you fancy to do in your free times."

Having finished what she needed to say, she was about to leave when Pansy spoke up, her voice immediately raising her blood pressure. "What about your muggle relatives? It was in the Prophet…that they were killed."

"And?"

"Well…did you do it?"

"Yes, Pansy, I did. Though I also have to give credit where it is due: Bellatrix and Barty Jr. did help out and the brutality and savagery with which they torture was truly eye opening," Lillian said, a murderous grin on her face.

"It was my pleasure, Potter!" Bellatrix laughed. "I hope you learned a lot."

"And I hope you see that I am truly devoted to our Master and no sheep of Dumbledore's." Lillian nodded at the former Black. "Anyway, I hope your curiosity has been sated, Pansy. If not, I certainly don't mind going through the whole thing in detail; I do remember it fondly after all."

"Thanks, but no, thanks." Pansy blanched.

"Suit yourself." Lillian was again about to leave before she remembered something.

"Say…was there any news on Arthur Weasley? Him dying or being gravely injured?"

The teens all looked at each other before shaking their heads collectively.

Nodding with a small frown, Lillian left the teens to head to the library. Who could have saved him from her _fiendfyre_?

* * *

Dumbledore looked at those gathered around the table in Grimmauld Place's kitchen. "Thank you for coming in such short notice, my friends, but I am afraid that a terrible attack has occurred." The group around the table in the Black manor looked, fitting to the reason of the meeting, very grim. "As you might have read in the Daily Prophet, the Dursley family was brutally murdered by Death Eaters," Dumbledore began, "and before they fled, a very dark spell – _Fiendfyre_ – was cast. If I would not have arrived when I did, we not only would have lost more innocent muggle families, we would also have lost Arthur."

Molly Weasley had her hand firmly grasped by her husband, who apparently still was very shaken about those events. "I have never seen a spell like that…it was like…the flames were _sentient_. They changed into all sorts of beasts…I was certain I was dead…and there was so much blood in that house…"

Moody listened intently to Arthur before grunting and shaking his head. "This doesn't sound like your average Death Eater attack to me. It sounds way too personal."

"What are you suggesting?" Black asked with a low and threatening tone.

Both of Moody's eyes fixated on Sirius, his gaze unflinching. "That Albus may be right after all and your goddaughter might have been lying to us when she said that Voldemort's resurrection failed."

"We are missing something…" Dumbledore spoke up. "The Dark Mark is not visible on Severus's forearm."

"But it was."

Looking at his old friend over the rim of his glasses, Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. Then, shortly after the end of the last school year it disappeared again. That is what I am talking about, Alastor."

"Snape might be double crossing us. To protect Potter."

"Lillian is not a Death Eater!" Sirius roared, his friend Remus Lupin trying to calm him down.

"It is something we have to consider, Sirius. I know it might be a painful and disappointing thing to accept but-"

"Don't give me that bullshit, Albus." Sirius glared at the headmaster almost ferally. "Don't give me _that_. I demand you tell all of us right now what happened to Lillian when she lived with those muggles."

"Sirius, I doubt now is the time-"

" _Tell_ _us_. Or leave. I swear, I will evoke this house's magic and throw all of you out if you don't."

Dumbledore stared at Sirius for a few short moments before nodding. "If it is what you wish…she told me that she was being beaten and abused by the Dursley's and-"

"Abused how, Albus?" Sirius interrupted him, his face slowly losing all colour. "Tell me exactly what she said. How was she abused?"

"Sirius, this really is no time to talk about things in the past. We should have some respect for a brutally murdered family."

" _Say_. _It_."

Dumbledore himself looked very uncomfortable now with the eyes of every member of the Order on him. "She mentioned some…sexual abuse."

Collective gasps erupted around the table before Dumbledore held up a hand. "I had several trustworthy witches and wizards keep an eye on her and they never mentioned anything out of the norm to me. It was a child's exaggeration."

"Did they go to the house, ring the bell, demand to see her? Or did they just look at the house from the outside?" Sirius' eyes started to tear up in anger.

"Sirius-"

"Leave." His voice was low but firm. "Leave and don't come back. Wherever you hold your Order meetings, I don't give a damn. Get out of my sight."

Remus himself was completely in shock at what had just been revealed and looked unseeingly at a shaken-up group leaving.

Once they were alone Sirius finally allowed himself to break down as he got up, flipped the wooden table over with an anguished cry before sinking to his knees as his cries and sobs took over.

Remus just sat there, staring at a wall across from him with silent tears streaming down his face while he silently apologized to James and Lily Potter over and over and over.

* * *

Once called inside, Lillian closed the door behind her before going down on one knee. "Welcome back, my Lord. I hope you had a good trip to Knockturn Alley."

Once her Master motioned for her to get up and take a seat, she did as told. "It was just business as usual, apprentice. What brings you here? I did not call for you."

"I was thinking about becoming an Animagus, my Lord, and wanted to ask for your opinion on that matter."

Leaning back on his chair, the Dark Lord looked thoughtful for a moment before slowly nodding. "Yes, I can see the merits. You must understand, however, becoming an Animagus is a pretty long and extraordinarily complex process. You will need time and dedication to succeed."

"I will prepare myself accordingly, my Lord."

"As I expect of you. Before heading back to Hogwarts be sure to head to Diagon Alley and find some books about becoming an Animagus. During the coming summer we can start working on it."

"Thank you, m- oh! Who is this gorgeous snake? Would that be Nagini?" Lillian smiled brilliantly at the beautiful, large green serpent slithering its way from behind her master towards her, tasting the air with its tongue.

"Yes, apprentice. This would be my familiar: Nagini. It seems like she is finally willing to meet you."

"What type of snake is she, my Lord?" The teenager asked while she got up from her chair and crouched down to get on eye level with the reptile. " **You are so gorgeous, Nagini! May I pet you**?"

" **You may, little snakelet. Right under my chin is where I like to be scratched**."

Getting Nagini's permission to do so, Lillian sat down next to the snake and began rubbing the scales under the snake's jaw, visibly relaxing her.

"She would be a king cobra, apprentice. She has a lot of magic in her which made her venom even more potent and herself visibly thicker and stronger."

" **I'm not thick**!" Nagini threw in indignantly, making Lillian chuckle.

"Beautiful." Lillian kept scratching the snake's scales for a while longer before she remembered something else. "My Lord, have you found anything regarding Wendigos?"

"Unfortunately, no. I am actually considering travelling to North America for this, to find out first-hand what this transformation is all about."

"When would you travel?"

"When you head back to Hogwarts. I would not miss out on ravishing my apprentice a few more times before she has to go back to school."

"I was hoping for that answer, my Lord." Lillian glanced at him with a sultry smile before standing up. "I will start the review sessions with the brats tomorrow after breakfast. For now, I will head to the library and see what I can find on becoming an Animagus."

"Don't leave just yet, apprentice." He waited for Lillian to sit back down before he continued. "I assume you know what occlumency is?"

Lillian smiled as Nagini slithered and curled up on her lap. She was heavy, but Lillian didn't mind. "I do, my Lord. Occlumency is the art of closing one's mind against mental attacks from a Legilimens."

"Exactly. You must learn it."

"I would certainly benefit from it…" The young apprentice mumbled while scratching the scales on Nagini's head. "Who would teach me?"

"I will. While Severus is a master in occlumency I do not wish for him to go through your mind. But be warned: it will be draining on you, both mentally and physically. We will have sessions daily for one hour after you are done with the other children. I will provide you with the best literature on occlumency and legilimency so you can keep studying and meditating in Hogwarts. You may leave now."

* * *

The last week of the holiday passed quickly and, soon enough, Lillian found herself back at Hogwarts. She already missed her time in the Malfoy's vast library and missed the light bruises the Dark Lord gave her thighs and hips. The ones she had now would fade soon enough. She also missed seeing the Dark Mark on her arm, since it was once more made invisible by her Master. She wondered for how much longer she had to stay here. Her Master already knew so much and could probably teach her more than the staff at school. Learning directly from him was a dream she wanted to have fulfilled so badly, but alas, here she was.

Entering the Great Hall, Lillian made her way to the Slytherin table and sat down, quickly filling her plate. If nothing else, there always was the food at least. She quietly began to eat as the rest of her year slowly started to appear and joined her, some greeting her and some ignoring her.

"Hey, Potter, what's that on your neck?"

Looking up at Pansy, Lillian gave the girl a questioning look before swallowing her food and reaching with her hand to her neck. "What?"

"Other side. Lower. Yes, that. Wait, is that a hickey?" Pansy asked, her eyes widening comically once Lillian exposed her neck a bit more without really wanting to.

"Nonsense. Now go back to minding your own business." Lillian tried hard to hide the furious blush on her cheeks. Yes, the Dark Lord was particularly rough and possessive with her last night and she was sure she had at least a couple more hickeys on a breast and thigh. She should have checked harder on the mirror. Damn that sweater.

"Who is it?" Daphne asked, visibly exciter.

Lillian, however, was quickly losing her patience. "Shut it! It's none of your business!"

"Come on! Was it any of you boys?"

"Are you kidding? Don't you remember what…you know…did to Theo when he tried?" Blaise shuddered at the memories.

"Don't remind me man, I still get twitches sometimes…" Nott mumbled in response to that.

Lillian started to tune them out when her eyes caught something far across the hall. She saw Ronald Weasley keep throwing glances at her and when he caught her eye he quickly concentrated on his food, avoiding her.

"What the…" Wiping her hands and mouth with a napkin, she got up from her chair and made her way quickly to the Gryffindor table, just stopping behind the mudblood girl and across from Weasley. "What?"

"Whachu mea wha?"

"Swallow your mouthful and tell me why you keep eyeballing me, you pig." Lillian scrunched her nose up in disgust. "This wasn't like your little spy game for Dumbledore when you just kept glaring holes in my back. Yes, I know about _that_."

Weasley again was avoiding her eyes. "I don't know what you are talking about…"

"Weasley…"

"Alright! Follow me…"

"Ron!"

"Shut it, Granger! Lead on."

Ignoring the stares, they received, Lillian followed the youngest Weasley boy out of the Great Hall and into an empty classroom. Folding her arms over her chest, she waited for him to start.

"Okay, look…I heard some things about you…"

Lillian narrowed her eyes. "What things?"

"See…you heard about your uncle and aunt, right? So, there was a, uh… _meeting_ where they talked about that stuff…and apparently some things came out about what _they_ , uh…did…to you…"

Reeling inside, Lillian took a deep breath. "Like… _what_?"

Looking very uncomfortable, Weasley was almost begging. "Please don't make me say it! I didn't even know those things happened to you, your godfather threw Dumbledore out and everything! That's what my dad said at least."

Lillian's eyes were very wide as her mind went through a million possible outcomes of this mess she found herself in, a shaking hand rubbing her face. Aside from closure for herself, murdering the Dursleys had apparently gained them nothing. Damn that Sirius Black. Damn him for not leaving her be.

"Who else knows? I know you have a loose mouth, Bilius. Give me names. _Now_." Her voice was low, threatening and shaking at the same time, her eyes still wide, her lips thin as she pressed them together tightly.

"Come o-"

Lillian charged at him, forcing him against a table, her wand pressing against his stomach as he was lying on his back, his hands up and eyes widened in shock. "I swear, I _will_ slaughter your entire inbred clan, Weasley, starting with you! Tell me who you told! _NOW_!"

"Okay! Blimey, calm down! Just Neville and Hermione! Shite!"

She searched his widened eyes for even the slightest hints of lies, but found none. "If you spill this to anybody else I will kill you."

Lillian then left the Weasley boy alone and headed straight to the dungeons and the Slytherin common room because Draco was nowhere to be found in the Great Hall.

As soon as she saw him there, she walked up to him. "Malfoy."

Draco looked up and gulped at the thunderous look on her face. "I didn't do anything!"

"I need your owl. Come with me." She didn't wait for his answer but headed straight to the owlery.

"Why do you need me with you?" Malfoy asked, heaving caught up to her.

"You agreed to my offer. You do what I say. Shut up and come with me."

"You can't tell the owls apart, can you?"

"Shut. Up."

Their trip to the owlery remained silent from then on, Malfoy only shooting a few curious glances at her.

Once they arrived, Malfoy picked his owl out and Lillian quickly took a sheet of parchment, a quill and ink provided for the students and started started writing.

Malfoy respectfully waited a few paces behind her and once she was done and had the parchment rolled up and bound, she handed it to Malfoy, who then sent his owl off.

"May I ask what's going on?"

"Certain people know certain things they shouldn't know because my godfather couldn't leave things alone. I'm not sure how to deal with this situation, so I asked for advice." Looking at Malfoy, she continued. "If you hear things about me…tell me when and from whom you heard it. Immediately."

"Alright…what exactly-"

"You'll know."

* * *

Lillian was sitting on her bed in her sleepwear, consisting of a tank top and boxer shorts, which fortunately covered the other hickeys. She had her eyes closed and legs crossed, her brows still slightly showing the frown she was wearing for most of the day.

Back at the Malfoy's manor she had to admit that occlumency was an incredibly complex and difficult art to learn, but she at least managed by the last day to create a weak barrier, just about strong enough to block a very weak mental attack from her Master.

The meditation itself was very useful too, allowing her to bring some calmness to her worrisome thoughts. So, she slowly felt herself relax as she used the breathing and relaxation techniques she had read in the book she took with her.

Soon enough she was so far in her mental tranquillity that she didn't hear the door to the dorm open and only barely heard her name being called, pulling her back out from her meditation.

"What in Merlin's name were you doing?"

"Meditating," Lillian answered before getting up from her bed to her feet and stretching before lying back down.

"Why?"

Sighing at Daphne's questions, Lillian answered. "It's a training exercise which helps with learning occlumency."

"Were you ordered by-"

"Yes, are you done with your questions? I was so relaxed just a moment ago and am already feeling my blood pressure rising again…"

"Sorry, sheesh."

Waving her off, Lillian turned to her side before slowly falling asleep, mentally preparing for the first class after the holidays.


	10. Interlude 3

The Dark Lord Voldemort trekked through the wilderness of the North American Atlantic Coast. The cool wind whipped against his face, biting into his skin as he made his way through a dense forest. A deep coating of snow covered the frozen ground as thick, grey clouds covered the blue of the sky.

It was a small reprieve from his planning and plotting in Britain if he was honest with himself. Of course, a Dark Lord was supposed to be busy, was supposed to work tirelessly, but even he needed a break now and then.

Still, his reason for being in the United States certainly was not recreational.

No, he was here to do a small favour for his apprentice, so to speak. Ever since Lillian Potter read about the monsters of Native American legend, those _Wendigos_ , she had been utterly fascinated by them. He was not entirely sure why that was, but he had a feeling that it had a lot to do with death and mayhem. There were only so many ways one could utilize mindless and ever-hungry monstrosities after all.

There also was the fact that his apprentice had a knack for showing an almost maniacally sadistic streak, very much like his ever-loyal right-hand woman, Bellatrix Lestrange. Very unlike her, however, his apprentice was sane, as in _actually_ sane. Whereas Bellatrix needed lucid moments to touch reality through that haze of madness, making her almost seem schizophrenic, Lillian's madness all happened in either a very calculated and calm manner or through a teenage temper tantrum. Whichever it was, his apprentice was always aware. And he was glad she was. He was not sure he could have handled another devotee with such potential wasting away in their madness.

All those things considered, he expected from his apprentice to have been thinking about ways to utilize these Wendigos, otherwise, he would not waste his time travelling overseas trying to find out more about them, especially considering that he didn't even do it for himself; at least not directly.

It was odd to think about doing things that didn't benefit himself immediately or directly, but then, it was also odd to think about the time and dedication he had already invested in grooming the Light's former golden girl into what she would eventually become. Granted, Dumbledore had certainly done a splendid job already, considering the raw diamond Lillian Potter was when he took her for himself on the day of his return.

His former headmaster had done the same mistake with her as he had done with him, all those years in the past. It was baffling as just how infallible Albus Dumbledore saw himself to not recognize the pattern between how he had treated him and Lillian.

The Dark Lord was far from complaining, though. Not only did he get an eager servant out of Dumbledore's second big blunder, no; he got an exceptionally talented witch, he got a witch thirsting for power and willing to delve in the darkest depths of magic to gain said power, but not so much as to challenge him – she was far too loyal to him for that to be a possibility – and he also got a witch who was a descendant of the Slytherin bloodline, willing to be bred by him to bear him an heir, strengthening his legacy and that of their bloodline.

That she did not seem to care much for love was a bonus, a real luxury. Not having to deal with the stupidity love seems to awaken in the general populace was something he certainly was grateful for.

Of course, it wasn't like he had no feelings to spare; he was capable of feeling affection and dismay, he could get bored or excited. He simply could not feel love, as his mother had most likely conceived him while she had drugged his father with a love potion. Riddle probably should feel grateful because that fact did free him from many, many troubles.

But yes, the Dark Lord Voldemort was capable of affection in certain ways. Should he ever lose his loyal Bellatrix he certainly would be angry. Should he ever lose his apprentice, he would be beyond furious. Should he ever witness either of them getting maimed or otherwise gravely injured, the culprit/-s would suffer his wrath…after he would punish his two most devoted for allowing their enemies to injure them.

It should not be said that the Dark Lord did not care for his followers.

As he continued trekking through the forest, his mind wandering, he caught something from the corner of his eye.

A curious hum left the depths of his chest. He made his way to the tree. It was an old tree; tall, strong and thick. In times of muggle industrialization, it was almost a miracle that it was still standing. But then, as his hands ran across its bark, his finger running along the faintest of carvings, he couldn't help but smirk.

"It seems I may finally be closing in on the answers you yearn for, my dearest apprentice," Riddle muttered to himself.

Ancient black magic certainly was a beautiful thing.

* * *

It had been a week since she found out about the Weasley brat knowing of her deepest humiliation. It still made her angry. It still made her want to go out on a rampage, but, alas, she could not allow herself to.

Besides, the answer she received from her master when seeking out his guidance after Weasley's revelation was clear as a summer's day.

_"Do not fret. Own it. Utilize it. Make it your weapon. Turn what was once your weakness into strength. You are better than this, apprentice."_

She was. She was Lillian Potter and she was not weak. She was Lillian Potter and she had beaten her mind when it was crippling her with the deeds her late, poor, dear uncle had wrought upon her.

That someday, in the foreseeable future, the magical populace of the British Isles – and probably also the magical populace of the European continent and probably beyond – would find out about what she had to suffer through her entire childhood irked her more than thoughts could express, but her Dark Lord was right, of course. He always was.

She would not let them put her down. She would not let them portray her as a broken girl. They would not see what they would expect to see, no. The people would see their heroine as just that – a heroine. A tragic heroine, yes, but still. They would see that she had suffered and that she had been broken, but that she had soldiered through and that she had put herself back together time and time again.

They would also see that those supposed to protect her, their leader of the light and his little cult, had failed to do so. Her personal favourite thing, however, would be when she ripped off the protective veil Dumbledore had cast on the muggles and revealed them as what they truly were: filthy, vile animals waiting to be put down.

Oh, she couldn't wait for the uproar her past would cause. The magical society was on the brink of a major shake-up.

However, this was not all her master had to say in his letter and she actually was feeling a little excited over what he told her to do and the free reign he gave her to make those decisions. Lillian was aware, though, that any bad decision was hers to own, which was why she had thought long and hard before coming to her decision.

So, at evening time, when most students were gathered in their respective common rooms, Lillian approached Draco's group, her eyes fixating on the Greengrass heiress.

"Daphne, accompany me to our dormitory. We have to have a private talk." Giving a pointed look to the rest of her year-mates, Lillian headed upstairs, fully expecting Daphne to not question her and follow her without a word.

Once they were both inside, Lillian immediately closed and locked the door before casting a privacy charm on it.

"Wha-"

"Sit," Lillian ordered Daphne. She sat down at the edge of her own bed, waiting for the young heiress to follow suit. Once Daphne nervously did as told, Lillian began talking. "Out of everyone from your… _group_ , I see the most potential in you, Daphne."

"I…thank you?"

"Before I begin with why I demanded to speak with you, I will ask you some questions. Just a few questions for which I expect honest answers. If I ever find out you lied to me, I will kill you. _Slowly_. Understood?"

Daphne's pale features paled even further at that promise while she nodded. "Yes."

"What exactly is your family's motivation in this war?"

"What do you mean?"

Lillian got up from her bed, slowly pacing in the middle of the room. "No one of your family that I know of is part of our Lord's inner circle, or even just a simple Death Eater grunt, despite the Greengrass's influence in pureblood social circles. During my stays at the Malfoy Manor, I have researched the Sacred twenty-eight and read about the Parkinsons, Notts, Selwyns, Carrows, Yaxleys…they all are obvious in their alignments. I also read about the Greengrass family, but you are just _so_ obscure. Obviously, the Greengrass' are pure-blooded, which is a commendable trait and something I greatly envy." Lillian wasn't lying either. Every time she thought about her relation to the Dursleys she felt physically ill and not just because she hated _them_ in particular. Good riddance and she wished she could kill them over and over again. "But," she continued, "your family was not involved in the past war, to my knowledge at least, and even now your family's involvement only consists of you being tutored by the Dark Lord's apprentice." Stopping her pacing, Lillian turned to face the Greengrass princess, her back straight, hands clasped behind her back and legs slightly apart, feet firmly on the ground as she gazed down at Daphne, her very posture oozing confidence and demanding obedience.

"O-of course," Daphne nodded, and Lillian could see her swallow thickly. "My family is more, uh, opportunistic than anything else. W-we believe in blood purity and are more dark than neutral, traditionalistic and everything, b-but avoid being in the centre of things. That's w-why you wouldn't find many records of the Greengrass name in lots of history books that don't explicitly deal with family histories."

Letting out a non-committal hum, Lillian didn't say anything for a few moments, her face not betraying any thoughts. "I see. So, what use is your family to our cause? What does your family do?"

"Black market trading. W-we provide the Dark Lord with dark artefacts he asks for."

"Has Dumbledore ever shown any interest in you?"

"I- what?" Daphne asked, apparently confused at the sudden and seemingly random change of topics.

"Answer the question."

"No. No, he hasn't ever spoken to me at all."

"Good. The Dark Lord recently tasked me with something for which he allowed me free reign. He tasked me with building my own inner circle of trusted individuals out of those I tutor," Lillian began, once more pacing. "To trust is something I do not do easily. In fact, there is only one person I trust implicitly and that is, quite obviously, the Dark Lord himself. However," Lillian turned to face Daphne fully, "there are some among your group from whom I expect to be of great use in our future war and our magical empire, once the war over. You are one of those individuals, Daphne. Your family is smart. They act in the shadows and are always out of sight. They are cunning and driven. True Slytherins, indeed. More so than the Malfoys."

"Thank you…?"

Lillian smirked at Daphne's uncertainty and she couldn't blame her. "Have I told you about my Slytherin heritage?"

Daphne's eyes widened comically. "Are you serious?"

"Indeed I am. Granted, it is very diluted, but I am a descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself. However, the Dark Lord is a direct descendant and has more claim to the name than I do. It doesn't matter, though. He offered me to become his Lady."

After that reveal, Lillian had to stop herself from laughing out loud at Daphne's expression. Completely undignified, the Greengrass princess looked both shocked and unbelieving at the same time.

"To be fair, it is no big secret, although the big announcement and actual bonding is supposed to happen this coming summer. But I figured you ought to know that I am not just a powerful year-mate of yours who lets the Dark Lord's attention get to her head. I _am_ his apprentice. I _am_ bearing his mark. I _am_ to become the Dark Lord's bride. I _am_ a descendant of Slytherin's. I _am_ a parselmouth." Lillian smirked ferally at Daphne. "In just a short few months I will officially become His Dark Lady."

"I…see."

"'I see…'?"

"I see…my Lady."

Lillian couldn't help the giddiness she felt when Daphne addressed her with her proper title. Sure, there were still a few months to go until it would actually, _really_ be official, but training her group of followers early was surely nothing reprehensible. "Good. Now, what do you say to my offer, Daphne? And, just so you know, Draco is already partially in my inner circle. He surely is a boy with potential, but he has yet to touch said potential. Curse his father for spoiling him rotten, which he literally did."

Daphne still seemed to struggle to cope with addressing her, a teenage girl, a girl the same age as her, in such a way, but Lillian knew that Daphne knew that there was nothing she could do about it.

Finally, Daphne was apparently coming to terms with the situation. "I…would be honoured. My Lady."

"As you should," Lillian said, subconsciously emulating her master. Sitting back down on the bed, Lillian stared straight at Daphne, who was sitting on the bed next to hers, locking eyes with the blonde. "I cannot stress enough that you will only address me as your Lady when in private. Not to hide it from the rest of your group, I do not care about them, but fr-"

But from Dumbledore and the rest of the school and staff."

"Do _not_ interrupt me."

"I apologize, my Lady."

"You are correct, though. They cannot know unless the Dark Lord besieges and takes over Hogwarts or decides it unnecessary for me to continue my schooling here." She doubted it would ever be the latter, but secretly hoped so. The Dark Lord could just take over the rest of her education, but he likely would not have the time. "I expect great things from you, Daphne. Hopefully, you will be as useful an asset as I expect you to be."

"T-thank you, my Lady."

"That would be all. You can go join back with your friends. Keep up your studies. If I need something specific from you I will let you know. For now, just do what Draco does: keep your eyes and ears open for anything that could be useful to our Lord, to me or our cause in general."

"Yes, my Lady."

With a wave of her wand, Lillian dispelled the privacy charm and unlocked the door, silently dismissing the Greengrass heiress who all but ran out of the room. Getting up from the bed, the young apprentice slowly closed the door, leaning against it with her back as her hand discreetly crept under her school uniform's skirt, pressing against her sex over her wet knickers.

Never would she have guessed just how arousing it could be to assert one's dominance over another person. What she really did was to emulate her master's behaviour when he was talking to his followers; his body language, speaking pattern, the tone of his voice and his careful wording.

She wasn't sure just how successful she really was compared to someone like her master, but it was enough to force the Greengrass princess into a submissive position during the entirety of their talk. She was meek, she was scared, she was in awe.

Forcing such reactions out of another person was intoxicating to Lillian. And arousing. She was debating with herself if she should do something about it, a quick relief certainly didn't sound half bad just about now, but she decided against it. It just wouldn't be the same to climax if it wasn't her master causing it. She wished she was with him so he could assert _his_ dominance over _her_.


	11. Interview

"...and this is why the last step is to stir counterclockwise thrice. Any more questions?" Lillian let her piercing gaze wander over the group of her Slytherin year-mates. It was a cold Saturday morning and they found themselves in the empty classroom provided to them by their head of house. The tutoring sessions she was ordered to give them were starting to bear visible fruit too. Daphne and Draco were miles ahead of the rest, of course, or she wouldn't have bothered giving them the attention she did. But – and that was the point – almost every single one of the group improved significantly. Even Pansy had her impressed because the only class she still struggled with was Transfiguration. Lillian hated to admit it, but, maybe – just maybe – Pansy wouldn't be entirely useless. So far the apprentice's preference was still to dismember the pug-faced girl and feed the body parts to the beasts in the Forbidden Forest, but slowly that shifted to _'crucio her just because'_. She almost felt as if she was getting soft.

None of her 'students' seemed to have any more questions left for this session since there were no hands raised.

"Very well." Lillian started to pack up her notes. "Then we are done for today. Dismissed."

The rustling noise of parchment and clinking of ink bottles being stuffed into backpacks filled the classroom. Being the last to leave, Lillian followed the other teenagers at a leisurely pace. After she had recruited Daphne into her inner circle, nothing much had happened since. The Dark Lord was still in Northern America, as far as she was aware. Neither Daphne nor Draco had had anything to report to her. Umbridge had yet to make moves to take over Hogwarts from Dumbledore. The Prophet had yet to print an article about her childhood.

So, what did one do when there was nothing to do?

"Draco."

Draco stopped his chatter with his friends and turned around to face Dark Lord's apprentice. "Yes?"

"You do not happen to know if your family's library has books on _ya sang_?"

"No idea. Why?" "What's that?"

"Do me a favour and send an owl to your father. If he finds something about _ya sang_ ,he can duplicate it and send me the copy. Otherwise, he can look for it in Knockturn Alley. There is bound to be a shop somewhere selling something."

Turning from Draco to Blaise, Lillian continued. "To answer _your_ question, _ya sang_ is ancient black magic originating in Thailand. It specializes in poisons and curses."

"And you need information on that, because...?"

Scoffing at Tracey Davis, Lillian continued her walk to the Great Hall. "I don't _need_ to know anything about _ya sang_. It is just mere curiosity, nothing else. Other...magic arts...hogged my attention for a while and now I am busy with reading up on Occlumency and becoming an Animagus. So, I figured, why not read up on something entirely new and foreign?"

"What about voodoo? I don't know much about it but I've heard that it's some serious black magic."

Lillian didn't say anything to Theodore's comment for a while. She didn't enjoy his company or his presence in general ever since he molested her in her sleep. That he didn't actually, vaginally rape her was nothing but luck. The fact that she even allowed him back to her tutor sessions was for no other reason than doing her Lord a favour after he complained about Nott senior complaining about his son not being tutored by her. It was unfortunate that Nott senior was such a valuable enforcer.

"Do you believe in patrons?" Lillian suddenly asked.

"You mean like the Seelie and Unseelie Queen?"

Nodding at Daphne, Lillian continued. "So, you know that some patrons – not all but some of them – are said to represent different branches of magic. Voodoo is especially notorious in that regard, or so I have read. Because of its entirely sacrificial nature, it is said that Baron Samedi – Death itself – is Voodoo's patron. It is said that to be able to practice Voodoo rituals, one has to promise one's soul to Samedi after death."

A small chuckle left Lillian's lips after she finished her explanation. "Now, I'm not sure if there is any truth to it or not, but I'd rather not gamble with my soul." _Especially not after the Horcrux ritual_.

"Huh...wouldn't have pegged you for a superstitious person," Pansy mumbled, still extremely careful around Lillian.

"That's fair. But, a few years ago, Vampires, Werewolves, Fairies, Wisps...they all were fantasy to me. Now, they and many more such things are real. To think that a higher being resides on a different plane of existence as the patron of a certain kind of magic doesn't seem too far fetched to me anymore. Anyway," Lillian signalled the end of their conversation once they reached the Great Hall for a late breakfast, "don't forget about my request, Draco."

The group then made their way to the Slytherin table, still somewhat deserted as it was a weekend. It was still odd to Lillian how the dynamics in House Slytherin had changed since the Triwizard Tournaments finale last year. Not even a full year ago she had been basically nonexistent to the other Slytherins. They hadn't cared about her and, after initially trying to bully and intimidate her until she retaliated violently, they hadn't bothered her. They had gone about their lives in Hogwarts and she about hers. That was all there had been to it.

But, after she became the Dark Lord's apprentice and had spent her summer at Malfoy Manor tutoring her housemates, it seemed as if everything they did revolved around her in one way or another. Over the course of a single summer holiday, she had rushed from the bottom to the top. If she told them to bow and kiss her feet they would do it. She knew they would. As did they.

Sitting down at their table, they began filling their plates when the daily owl mails arrived, some carrying letters, others subscripted newspapers and magazines.

Lillian didn't pay it much mind, considering her Daily Prophet would be delivered to her any moment now. What did catch her attention though, was the rising sound of students murmuring, of gasps and shocked exclamations. Curious, she looked across her own table and saw that only Daphne had received her Prophet so far and, if the wide eyes, the one shaking hand firmly grasping the newspaper and the other hand covering her mouth were anything to go by, it was not good news.

"What is going on?" Lillian asked curiously.

Pansy shrugged and leaned over the shoulder of her best friend and, mere moments later, the fork Pansy was holding got dropped to the floor.

"Oh, Merlin..."

"M-my...Potter...Lillian, I'm so sorry, I had no idea..."

Lillian gave Daphne a baffled look and glanced around the Great Hall, seeing students whisper and chatter. Fingers were pointed in her direction, teachers looked stricken and shocked, countless pairs of eyes were giving her looks full of pity. She hated it. She hated being pitied, she hated being felt sorry for and there was only one thing – one single thing – that would make people feel that way for her.

And, as if on cue, her newspaper finally arrived. She didn't want to see it. She didn't want the confirmation that, as of today, the entirety of wizarding Britain knew about her suffering, her torture, her humiliation.

Holding her breath, she unrolled the paper after paying the owl and there it was. On the front page, glaring at her, there was the confirmation. They all knew now. Her most intimate secret was out for the world to see and eat up.

_Own it. Use it. You are better than this._

The Dark Lord's words ran through her mind like a chant, over and over and over again.

He was right. She had to own it. She had to use it. She was better than this.

Almost mechanically, Lillian put the newspaper on the table with shaking hands, her lips tightly pressed together, her eyes wide and her skin sickly pale. She got up from the table and picked up her bag, leaving for the common room without a word.

* * *

**SHOCKING REVEAL: GIRL-WHO-LIVED SEXUALLY ABUSED BY MUGGLE CARETAKERS**

* * *

Lillian didn't know how much time had passed. She was in the girl's dormitory on her bed, wearing her sleepwear and meditating. Not only did it help to improve her occlumency, but it also helped her find her equilibrium.

Never had it felt this hard, though. Her mind was in a state of chaos, a million thoughts running havoc inside her head. A few days ago, her Master's advice gave her confidence, made her feel that she could brave this. But now, actually coming face to face with this situation...it made her feel angry. Vulnerable. Exposed. At times like this, she hated being Lillian Potter. She hated being this poster girl for a group of idiots who latched onto the random luck of an infant that didn't die when she should have.

She hated the obsession the general public had with her private life. She hated her muggle relatives for doing this to her. She hated the muggle neighbours for ignoring the cries of a young girl. She hated Dumbledore for ignoring her pleas for help. She hated, hated, _hated_.

But most of all, she hated being a disappointment to her Master. So far, Lillian had avoided being exactly that and she would very much like to keep it this way. With a weary sigh, she got up from her bed.

She dreaded going to the common room, dreaded the words of pity and support. They weren't the Dark Lord's apprentice. None of them were marked by him. None of them had his attention as she did.

Taking a deep breath, Lillian jutted her chin out defiantly.

Exiting the dormitory, she quickly made her way to the common room and ignored the sudden silence, deafening as it was. She quickly found 'her' group and walked up to them.

"My Lady, I-"

"Save it, Daphne. I neither want nor do I need your pity. Yes, I had a difficult childhood. But I survived. I came out stronger." Her gaze wandered over the teenagers, her expression not betraying the reeling emotions raging through her. "If any single one of you changes their behaviour towards me even the slightest bit...then they will suffer my utmost displeasure. That is a promise."

She then sat down next to Draco on an empty spot, crossing one leg over the other, her boxer briefs doing nothing to hide her bare thighs. "Draco, how much influence does your father have with the Daily Prophet?"

Thinking for a moment, he shrugged. "Can't say if he has any real influence there, but I do know that he knows some people there, some high-up editors if I'm not mistaken."

"Good enough," Lillian said with a nod. "Ask him to set up an interview with them for me, as fast as possible. I need to use this story to my advantage..."

"How?"

Smirking at Pansy, Lillian leaned back into the couch, a bare foot bobbing up and down as she folded her hands over her stomach. "By telling the public the truth about their leader of the light. By telling the public what kind of savages muggles really are."

"Wait, you aren't really giving them detailed-"

Raising a hand to stop Theo from talking, Lillian scowled at him. "First of all, what's it to you how much of my past I choose to reveal? Secondly, of course, I am not going to give the public a detailed story about what happened to me. Don't be an idiot. All I will do is to give them a rough idea of what happened to me and who was responsible." Lillian went back to comfortably leaning back into the couch. "If there is one thing you need to know about the average citizen out there, it is this: the hearts of men are easily swayed." She said nothing for a few moments, then cocked her head slightly at Draco. "Draco, another thing...tell your father to find out how Skeeter got her hands on this. That woman's obsession with me is becoming a nuisance and I want to know what her secret is. I want to squash her like an insect." Draco gave her a nod but didn't move. " _Now_!"

At her shout, the Malfoy heir scrambled out of the common room and rushed to the owlery. Lillian glared into the fireplace, her thoughts drifting away, thinking of all the ways she wanted to kill Dumbledore for letting her suffer and her godfather for not leaving her be and putting his nose in places he had no business in.

"Can we...can we do something?" Blaise asked tentatively.

Lillian didn't answer for a while. "No," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Go away."

* * *

Not even a whole week later, a reporter of the Prophet arrived at Hogwarts. Lucius had to play his influence to make it happen, but it was what he was good at. She was just glad that it happened so quickly.

She finally reached the empty classroom provided to them for the interview and entered without knocking, greeting the reporter upon seeing her.

"Good afternoon, Miss Potter. My name is Glynda Gibbles. Thank you for approaching us with the interview offer."

Lillian gave a gracious smile. "I figured that, since it is such a vulnerable and traumatizing chapter of my life being slaughtered like this, I should at least add some facts to halt senseless speculations."

"Yes, we are really sorry that-"

"Don't give me that, please. You could have chosen to not print it, yet you still did. You saw a top-selling story and printed it. It's business, I can't blame you for that."

Chuckling nervously, the young reporter motioned for Lillian to sit across from her.

"Shall we start then?"

"Yes, please."

Nodding, the reporter prepared her parchment and dicta-quill. "Let's start with a very basic question. Some say that story is a lie and you paid for it to be printed to get attention."

Lillian raised a delicate brow at that. "Really now?"

"Yes."

"Well, that accusation is preposterous. I wish I did make that up, but, unfortunately, no. I was sexually abused. I was raped. Regularly. From the age of eight to fourteen."

The reporter paled at that. "For six years?!"

"For six years."

"May I ask how it started?"

"No. I have had a mind-healer to talk in detail about what I went through. I have no desire to do that again."

"Understandable of course." The reporter gave Lillian a small smile. "May we get some information on the culprit then?"

"You already know them. They were the muggle family I was dumped at, the family of my aunt from my mother's side. They hated magic. They hated me. They made sure I was aware of that every day."

"So the abuse was not just sexual in nature?"

"Correct. Let's just say the worst treated house-elf is still treated better than I had been treated by those animals."

"How do you feel about their deaths?"

Lillian smiled at that. "The happiest day of my life. Whoever was responsible, I want to thank them."

Coughing awkwardly, the Reporter continued with her questions. "Why did we only now find out about what you had to go through?"

"Important people were aware. They just chose to not do anything about it, like muggle authority figures for instance. Like my teachers from the muggle schools I visited. Or the neighbours. They must have heard my screams but chose to ignore them. However, the most disappointing of all has to be Professor Dumbledore. I am beyond certain that he had people keeping an eye on me over all the years I was forced to stay with my aunt. Once I attended Hogwarts, I had asked several times to not go back to them. He could have at least cut my abuse short by several years. He chose not to."

"Professor Dumbledore knew?!"

"Everything."

"And he...?"

Lillian chuckled mirthlessly. "If I remember correctly, his exact words were 'now, now my girl, I am sure it is not so bad'."

"Unbelievable! The Girl-Who-Lived left abandoned in such an environment and people were fully aware of what was going on!"

"To be fair, Miss Gibbles, the muggles don't care about such titles. They don't know. They fear what they don't understand and do all they can to destroy it."

"Care to elaborate, Miss Potter?" The reporter asked with obvious curiosity.

"It may be an unpopular opinion, but, I think muggles – and I mean strictly _muggles_ , not _muggle-born_ – are dangerous. They hate and destroy what they don't understand, like magic. Just think of the witch-hunts. Think of the wars they wage every day with each other. What do you think they will do if they ever discover Diagon Alley? One bomb could destroy most of magical Britain."

Gibbles appeared to be considering the thought if her squirming in her chair was anything to go by. "That...is actually a scary thought."

"I know." Lillian checked her magic watch before giving the reporter an apologetic smile. "If you don't have any more questions, I think we should end this interview here. I still have some essays I would like to finish."

"Of course! Thank you again for your time, Miss Potter. It was a pleasure, and I want to say that the strength you showed, and show, considering all you had to go through, is really admirable."

"Thank you for your kind words, Miss Gibbles and the pleasure was all mine."

After shaking hands, Lillian left the classroom and the reporter, a self-satisfied smile on her face.

_I hope my Master thinks I did well._


	12. Punishment

It had been an enlightening journey to the North American East Coast. Even in his over forty years of travelling, researching, studying and conquering, he still discovered new Magics and the experience of learning them, of deciphering their properties – he couldn't feel love, but what he felt for the gift of magic was extremely close to it. The magicless vermin that forced his kin into hiding would never understand it. They couldn't possibly hope to understand just how far below they were from the magic folk around the world. The muggle populace of this world had to research and build things over weeks, months and years. The magical populace, however, had to flick their wands and there it was, whatever they wanted to be conjured out of thin air. They transfigured one thing to another, a multiple ton boulder suddenly was as light as a feather. A wizard and witch could do those fantastical things with sheer willpower. Compared to the vermin muggles that inhabited most of this planet they were gods amongst men and yet, they still kept hiding.

No more.

He couldn't wait for them to gain access to the Hall of Prophecies. Once he got his hands on that prophecy, that supposedly bound his and his dearest apprentice's fate, and got to listen to what it said, he could finally announce his return and get back to his original goal: to let magic reign over this world once more.

For now, however, he had to catch up on what he had missed in his three weeks away.

A knock on the door to his quarters announced the arrival of Lucius. The Dark Lord looked up from the reports he was reading at his desk. "Come in."

Lucius Malfoy opened the door immediately and dropped to his knees in front of his chair. "My Lord, welcome back."

He glanced down at Lucius Malfoy. "Rise, Lucius. Tell me what I have missed."

"Of course, my Lord," Lucius began after rising back to his feet. "There haven't been any major developments in your absence. We did as you asked and have not engaged in any raids or anything else. We kept away from the public eye."

"Good." He was pleased to hear that.

Lucius then fidgeted slightly. "However, your apprentice had several requests for me recently."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow at this. "Did she now? And what kind of requests would those be?"

"One was for a book on a peculiar kind of magic I have not heard of before: _ya sang_. Unfortunately, there was nothing about this _ya sang_ in our library and I have also yet to find anything in Knockturn Alley."

The Dark Lord couldn't help his chuckles. "Ah, I have come to expect my apprentice to be interested in the more exotic aspects of our gift. It makes me wish that the spoiled spawn of my pureblooded followers would be more like the half-blood golden girl of the light, but then...it would take away all that makes my apprentice so special, does it not?"

Lucius swallowed thickly. "I do have to agree that the Potter girl has been full of surprises. I was very sceptical at first, but she has proven to be very...capable. However, at times she does remind me of Bellatrix. A lot"

He had to agree. "She does, doesn't she? She's a wild little thing. What were her other requests?"

"She wants Rita Skeeter dead. My son said that she said that she, and I quote, 'wants to squash her like an insect'."

The Dark Lord cocked his head at this. "Why would that be?"

"Apparently, your apprentice wants to find out how Skeeter could find out about her...distasteful past. Skeeter has become a nuisance to her."

That would do it. "So it has finally become public knowledge."

Lucius looked surprised. "You were aware of it, my Lord?"

He nodded. "Since I used Legilimens on her in the graveyard on the day of my return." The Dark Lord was quiet for a moment. "You will find Skeeter and bring her to me. I, too, am curious about her secret and we can not have her find out every little thing about Lillian. But we will not kill her. Do you know why, Lucius?"

His Death Eater answered immediately. "Because you cannot kill every problem away, my Lord."

"Exactly." The Dark Lord had an amused smile on his lips. "My dearest apprentice, as cunning and sly as she is, is still very impulsive. If I didn't know any better I would say she is Bellatrix's child."

Lucius paled immediately. "Merlin, preserve us..."

"Come now, Lucius. We both know it would be amusing to see Bellatrix raise a child." The Dark Lord chuckled.

"I have no doubt, my Lord," Lucius answered with a shudder. "Your apprentice's last request, my Lord..."

"Yes?"

"She wanted me to arrange an interview with the Daily Prophet regarding the Skeeter article about her childhood abuse and I did so."

 _Oh?_ "Do you have the article at hand?"

"Yes, my Lord. If I may be so free, I have to say your apprentice handled herself exceptionally well," Lucius said as he reached inside his robes. He took out the newspaper and handed it to him.

The Dark Lord took it, then got up from his chair. "Let us walk to the sitting room," he said and walked out of his quarters, Lucius falling into step right behind him.

Once they reached their destination, the Dark Lord sat down and unfolded the newspaper, reading the interview and ignoring Lucius. Once he was done, he waved the now-folded newspaper at his Death Eater.

"This," he began, "is exactly why Lillian is my apprentice instead of any of the other children. What was the public reaction to this interview?"

"Most of the firmly light families are openly appalled at Potter's comments about muggles. They also conveniently chose to ignore the parts about Dumbledore," Lucius answered with a scoff.

"Names?"

"The usual suspects, my Lord. You would be looking at the Weasleys, Longbottoms, Diggorys."

He waved his hand dismissively at those names. "As to be expected from them. They won't abandon that old man so easily."

"The lesser light families, however, are in uproar and are pushing to have Dumbledore removed from the Wizengamot," Lucius continued, his voice now tinged with careful excitement. "The Dark families are pushing for investigations in the homes of muggle-born children or orphaned magical children and how they are treated in orphanages."

The Dark Lord nodded in satisfaction. "Good. They are eating Lillian's story up."

Lucius looked hesitant for a moment, obvious that he was curious about something. A few moments of silence passed before he found his courage. "My Lord...if I may ask...how much of it is true?"

"Everything, Lucius," the Dark Lord answered. "I saw what this exceptional witch had had to go through at the hands of those muggles when I entered her mind. But, as angry as it makes me, I am glad she did."

"Why?"

"Use your head, Lucius," the Dark Lord snapped at the blonde man. "If Dumbledore had put her in a family that _cared_ for the Girl-Who-Lived and nurtured her, do you think she would be the witch she is now? She would have been raised with Light ideals." He then grinned. "Instead, he abandoned her to those animals who defiled a magical child for no other reason than her having magic. Now, we have a witch who has pledged her loyalty to the murderer of her parents without a second thought, willing to torture and kill without remorse whenever I tell her to."

Lucius nodded. "Of course, my Lord."

The Dark Lord hummed. "You know, I have to agree with you, Lucius."

He looked surprised. "My Lord?"

Smirking at him, he got up from his seat and motioned for his Death Eater to follow him. "When you said how well my apprentice did with this interview. I agree and I think she is deserving of a small reward. Where is Peter, Lucius?"

"Diagon Alley, my Lord. After you left for your journey, I have sent him to gather information and listen in on the general populace in his rat form," Lucius answered, his nose scrunched up in distaste.

"Well, no more. Call him back." He smiled, the idea in his mind looking better and better the more he thought about it. "Say, Lucius, have you ever heard of Wendigos?"

* * *

"How does the Dark Lord keep coming up with these things?" Barty Jr. asked, staring at the immobilized monstrosity in front of him.

"Our Master told me that it was Little Potter who brought those things up."

The present Death Eaters all looked at the cackling mad witch, Bellatrix Lestrange, the surprise and shock evident on their faces. "You have got to be joking."

"You think our Lord is a liar, Yaxley?" Bellatrix snarled, her wand at the ready.

Yaxley looked unimpressed and annoyed, pushing Bellatrix's wand away from his face. "I wasn't being serious, you hag. But I have to say that girl is starting to impress me."

"You should have seen her when we went to kill her muggle family," Barty threw in. "She made her uncle watch his son get cut to pieces and his wife get raped. And she is a parselmouth."

"Is she now?"

Bellatrix nodded proudly. "Oh yes, like our Lord. I can see why my Lord took her in as his apprentice!"

The two men looked at the crazy witch in amusement. "Can't believe you of all people would say that," Yaxley chuckled.

"She is a half-blood after all."

"Doesn't matter to our Lord, doesn't matter to me," Bellatrix said, waving _that_ fact away. "Her Slytherin blood trumps it all. I have so many curses I want to teach her..."

" _Anyway_ ," Barty ended their little chat, "we've got to get going, the portkey is almost ready."

Donning their masks, the trio knelt when Barty placed the portkey on the monster's belly before they all touched it just in time.

Moments later they appeared in a muggle music venue as intended. The band playing stopped, confused about their sudden appearance. Security staff was ready to engage them, but Yaxley already shot his first Avada Kedavra, killing one of them.

The frontman looked stunned. "What the – who –"

" _Sonorus_ ," Bellatrix muttered, pointing her wand at her throat. Her voice amplified, she addressed the muttering, confused guests. "Hello everyone. Let's play tag. You all have to run because our little pet is _it_ ," she cackled as she petted the monster on the head.

Barty tapped his wand against the beast with a silent _Finite Incantatem_ , then the trio immediately apparated onto the roof of the venue, summoning the Dark Mark into the sky, disappearing with the portkey.

Inside the venue, the terrified and panicked screams of the muggles were drowned by the bestial sounds of what they had released.

* * *

On a quiet Friday evening, the group was sitting by the fire, some chatting, some playing exploding snap and one reading.

Never would she have guessed that she would find herself integrated into their midst like this, but here she was, the Dark Lord's apprentice, the future Dark Lady, just...hanging out with her _'students'_.

To be fair, she had been sitting there first and they had just joined her. She ignored them and focused on the book she got sent by Lucius Malfoy; that was until Draco addressed her.

"Tomorrow's a Hogsmeade weekend."

She sighed. "That's great."

"You want to join us?" he asked.

She turned a page. "No."

He kept pressing. "You haven't visited Hogsmeade once and you've had your permission slip from Black for years now."

Pulling away from her book in exasperation, Lillian turned to face Draco. "And what is it to you? I simply do not care for a village that has nothing to offer aside from a couple of dingy pubs and a sweets shop. Everything I need I can simply order."

"I can't believe I'm going there, but, what if a boy wants to ask you out for a Hogsmeade weekend?"

Lillian had to laugh at Daphne choking on her water after hearing what Draco had just said before she decided to toy with him a bit. "Why Draco, are you saying you wanted to ask me out and I ruined it for you?" She ignored Pansy's indignant gasp.

"What? No! I wasn't asking you out!" The Malfoy heir somehow managed to pale and blush at the same time.

"And why is _that_? Are you insinuating I'm not good enough for you?" She continued, her voice dropping to a threatening level.

"Am I not pretty enough to be worthy of your attention?"

"Wha-? I didn't-! Guys, help me!" Malfoy pleadingly turned to Blaise and Nott while the older Slytherins laughed silently.

"Leave me out of that one. You got yourself into this mess, you get yourself out," Blaise denied him, his hands raised.

Lillian just started to laugh before standing up, patting Draco's head. "I was merely joking, Draco. But to answer your 'what if'...I am already promised to a man whom no other person on this planet could ever hope to ever surpass."

Malfoy's eyes widened comically. "Wait...you are _promised_ as in _...marriage_?"

Daphne looked pointedly away during this conversation, but Lillian paid her no further heed. "Yes."

"To whom-?" Pansy began to ask but Lillian interrupted her with a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

"Think, _think_! Whom could I possibly be talking about when I say that he is a _'man no one could ever hope to surpass'_?"

"No...way..." Draco began when it finally dawned.

"I knew it!" Pansy jumped up from her seat, pointing a finger at Lillian, who just raised a brow with her arms crossed over her chest. "I knew you were fucking the Dark Lord! You acted all high and mighty when I first said it last summer, but I knew it! In the end, you still are nothing but a half-blood slut!"

One could hear their breathing, such was the silence that followed Pansy's outburst.

Daphne suddenly dropped to her knees, looking at Lillian pleadingly, her panic obvious. "My Lady, she didn't mean it! I swear she didn't, I-"

"What in Merlin's name are you doing, Daphne?! This is beneath you, _she_ is beneath you! That mudblood should be addressing you the way you keep addressing her!" Pansy hissed at her best friend.

Daphne got back up to her feet, putting a hand over Pansy's mouth. "Shut up, Pansy, damn it! Do you want to die?!"

"Enough, Daphne." Lillian looked at Pansy, her face a mask of disgust. "Draco," she addressed the blonde boy, "how did you keep visiting your family during the school year?"

"P-professor Snape's office...Pot-...Li-...my Lady...please don't..."

Ignoring his pleas, Lillian aimed her wand at Pansy. " _Imperio_."

* * *

The fireplace in Malfoy Manor lit up and the moment the controlled Pansy stepped out, followed by Lillian, Lillian removed the curse from the other girl.

"Wha-what happ-"

She was cut short when Lillian's fist collided with her jaw, the girl falling onto the carpeted floor. Lillian didn't give Pansy the time to register what was happening when she immediately cast the _Crucius_ curseat her, making her entire body convulse in pain and setting her nerves aflame.

"YOU THINK YOU CAN INSULT ME LIKE THAT?! YOU THINK I WILL ALLOW YOU TO INSULT ME IN FRONT OF _MY ENTIRE HOUSE_?!" Lillian shouted over Pansy's screams of agony. She kept holding the curse on the Parkinson princess. "YOU THINK-"

The door to the room opened and several adults gasped at the sight of her, the Dark Lord's petite apprentice, towering over the Parkinson heiress's convulsing form.

"What is the meaning of this, my Lord?! What is she doing to my daughter?!"

Lillian had to blink several times before she realized that her wand had been summoned from her hand. She turned to face the culprit and immediately dropped to a knee. "My Lord, it is good to see you again."

"Explain yourself, apprentice. Now." He didn't sound amused.

"Of course, my Lord," Lillian said dutifully. "I revealed to my group the nature of our future relationship. Pansy's reaction was less than savoury. I decided to teach her how to address and behave around her betters."

"That's it?!" Parkinson senior asked incredulously. "I ought to teach _you_ some manners, you-"

The Dark Lord halted the Parkinson patriarch's rant with a raised hand. "What exactly did she say to you, apprentice?"

"May I rise, my Lord?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, my Lord." After Lillian got up from her kneeling position, her face contorted back into its angry grimace. She turned and delivered a swift kick against Pansy's whimpering form. "Tell them what you said to me! Word! For! Word!" she ordered Pansy, punctuating each word with another kick.

Pansy gasped for air as she tried to speak, her face tear-streaked, her entire form a pitiful mess on the ground. Lillian wished she could take a picture of it. "I-I...I s-said...y-you are nothing...b-b-but a...mudblood slut..."

Her Dark Lord's face immediately darkened at that. "Miss Parkinson." The Dark Lord approached her. "Do you think I would just take any half-blood as my apprentice? Do you think I would propose to join bloodlines to just _any_ half-blooded witch? You insulted a descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself. Were you not aware that my apprentice speaks parsel?"

If Pansy looked scared for her life before, she now looked positively terrified. She glanced at her father, who, before, tried to help her, but after hearing the Dark Lord's words just now he was looking equally as terrified as his daughter.

Lillian knelt back down next to Pansy, roughly grabbing the girls jaws and forcing her to look at her. "I told you several times to be careful when talking to me, Pansy. I never liked you, but I began to tolerate you these past weeks. You were doing _so_ well." She squeezed her hand around Pansy's jaws as tightly as she could, digging her fingernails into her flesh, making her whimper. "Did you really think you could just go and call the Dark Lord's future bride, his Dark Lady, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself, a _mudblood slut_? Are you _actually_ stupid?"

"P-please..."

"Please what?"

Pansy's voice broke. "D-don't...don't k-k-kill me..."

Lillian grinned and turned to look at her Dark Lord. "My Lord? Am I allowed to kill her?"

"No! Please! My Lord, I beg of you, please!" Mr Parkinson himself was now on his knees. "She's my only daughter, my only child! Please spare her life this once!"

Lillian scoffed at that. "I gave her more than one chance. I say she has used them all up."

The Dark Lord appeared to be considering his options. "Did she have knowledge of your bloodline and our union when she insulted you before, apprentice?"

She deflated immediately. "Well... _no_..."

"I see. Miss Parkinson," Riddle approached the girl, her tear- and fearful gaze on the Dark Lord, "you are lucky your father is such a devoted follower. I will spare his sole heiress this once. _However_ ," he continued before the Parkinsons could thank him, "the disrespect you showed my apprentice will not go unpunished. You have five minutes with her, apprentice. No permanent harm."

Having her wand returned to her, Lillian towered over Pansy, who stared at her with fearful and wide eyes. "Permanent harm does not equal long-term harm, am I right, Pansy? Mr Parkinson," Lillian turned her attention to her year-mates father, who just looked back at her icily, "a fair warning: your baby girl will need a mind-healer and homeschooling after this. _Somnum exterreri solebat_."

And then Lillian crouched down next to a screaming Pansy, intently staring at the girl with a happy smile as she lived and felt every nightmare her mind came up with.

* * *

Lillian moaned as her back roughly hit the wall of the Dark Lord's study, her lips bruising thanks to her Master's firm kisses. Her legs were locked around his bare hips and her panties were pushed to the side to expose her sex under her skirt. She moaned again when she finally felt that wonderful stretching sensation only the Dark Lord could give her. Her hips and thighs hurt wonderfully from the way she was being used and manhandled by him, her neck burned from the painful bites he was giving her. It was glorious.

"I...have...a...re...ward...for...you," her Master panted out in between his hard thrusts, "for...your...inter...view..."

"Wh-where?"

"Daily...Prophet...tomorrow..."

Her Master was the best.

* * *

It was late at night when her head of house escorted her back to the Slytherin Common rooms – freshly showered of course.

He didn't ask where she went and why she took so long, which was what she had expected of him. He also didn't ask why she disappeared with Pansy and came back without her. That she had also expected.

Once she reached the dormitories, she immediately felt the eyes of every other girl in the room on her.

"Where's...Pansy?" Daphne asked, her face white and her lower lip trembling.

"Don't fret, Daphne," Lillian said airily. "She is very much alive. The Dark Lord did not allow me to kill the only heir of one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. You should thank him when you have the chance. I would have had no problem whatsoever with killing her." She sighed in resignation. "Oh well, maybe another time. At least I got to torture her enough so she won't come back for the rest of the year," she finished with a grin.

Once she had put on her sleepwear, she could tell that the other girls pointedly ignored the bruising visible on her thighs and the hickey on her neck. No one wanted to mention that the dark apprentice evidently had sex after torturing another person. She didn't care, though. It had been a lovely day.

* * *

"Why are you so excited?"

Lillian grinned at Blaise. "I am supposed to get a reward I can find on the Prophet for my interview. There must be some great news!"

Soon enough the owls appeared, her Daily Prophet one of the first to be delivered this time. She quickly paid the owl and went on the scan the front page, not able to hide her excited gasp. "I completely forgot to ask! He did it! He actually did it!"

Her excited whisper drew the curiosity of those around her and Blaise and Draco leaned over her shoulder to get a look.

"What-?!" "What is that thing?!"

Lillian, hiding her bright expression from the staff table, answered in a low voice as she stared at the bizarre visage someone managed to catch a picture of. " _That_ , my dear followers, is a _Wendigo_."

* * *

**BRUTAL MASSACRE IN MUGGLE MUSIC VENUE: DEATH EATERS RELEASE UNKNOWN MONSTER ON MUGGLES**


	13. The Locket

Amelia Bones was at a loss. She and several of her Aurors had spent the entire night and the following day securing the area of the massacre with strong compulsion wards before obliviating the few – very few – survivors. There was no chance to explain that... _thing_...away with simple memory modifications. Too much trauma, too much terror.

Whatever the Death Eaters had released on those poor muggles was pure savagery. When they first arrived she had to dry-heave several times, as did every other Auror that didn't actually get sick. Body parts, many of them half-eaten, were strewn all over the hall. Heads, limbs, intestines – there was no body that hadn't been mutilated.

"That can't have come from your average Death Eater..." Bones muttered under her breath, taking in the scene for the hundredths time.

"Ma'am?"

Bones glanced at one of her best, Kingsley Shacklebolt. There were rumours among his colleagues of him being a Dumbledore loyalist, something that irked her more than she cared to admit. Of course, Dumbledore was one of the greatest wizards of his lifetime and, even in his age, an incredible fighter and duelist. However, if you were an Auror, you were an Auror _first_ before anything else. That one of her best was rumoured to play spy or agent or whatever else for Dumbledore in his free time and potentially sharing sensitive information with the old wizard's Order was distasteful, to say the least, but there was not much that could be done without having actual proof.

"I said," Bones addressed Shacklebolt, "that that beast could not have come from your average Death Eater," she finished, nodding at the charred figure at their feet.

"I agree." Shacklebolt crossed his arms over his chest. "Death Eaters have simple minds...attack, kill, torture, leave. This...releasing beasts like this..."

"In the last war, dangerous, dark and evil creatures were used...just think of the Inferi. But it was You-Know-Who who summoned them and controlled them. Not his minions."

She rarely left her office anymore since she got the position as Head-Auror, but this was too big to just observe from behind a desk.

She caught Shacklebolt glancing at her.

"Ma'am...do you think that he could actually be back?"

"I don't know, Kingsley. These days it is hard to be sure about anything," she sighed. "If he _is_ back...the implications would be terrifying."

"The Girl-Who-Lived...it could mean she lied to us...but it is also possible that she didn't and he only recently came back."

"Doubtful. Don't forget the mass breakout from Azkaban. If he is indeed back then he's been back since before then...if they indeed managed to make the impossible possible...then it only means one thing: the Girl-Who-Lived lied about what happened during the Tri-Wizard finale."

"What reason would she have?"

Chuckling without humour, Bones glanced at Shacklebolt. "Have you not been reading the Prophet, lately?" Looking around herself, she saw her men finishing up with vanishing the last evidence of what had occurred here. "Alright, let's wrap things up and transport this thing to the Unspeakables, so they can find out what we are dealing with here. At least we now know that fire works against them..."

* * *

The news that Pansy would not attend Hogwarts for the rest of her fifth year settled as quickly as it came. Sudden health issues that needed long-term treatment the school's infirmary couldn't provide, teen pregnancies, familial responsibilities – there were multitudes of reasons why one would have to pull out of Hogwarts, even if just temporarily. Sure, Pansy's case was very sudden and unexpected but not unheard of.

Either way, Lillian didn't care. She was in a great mood since that day. Of course, she was disappointed that her future Lord Husband denied her the pleasure of snuffing out Pansy's life – that little bitch had certainly pissed her off one too many times – but she got the pleasure of torturing her.

The curse she had used on her without pause for a solid five minutes was pretty much the equivalent to what the Cruciatus curse did to one's body, or nerves, to be more exact. Before she used it on Lucius for a few seconds in the graveyard during their duel, Lillian never had the chance to actually use it on anybody. Sure, there were many curses – curses that attacked the victim's body, that left visible marks to be examined – she had tried out on rodents and other easily discardable small animals. The _Somnum_ curse, however, attacked specifically the victim's mind. In the script she bought for a lot of money in Knockturn Alley, it was stated that the victim was forced to suffer through a terrible loop of nightmares equivalent to the caster's intent. On top of that, their mind was tricked into making their bodies feel those nightmares. They, of course, never had lasting physical injuries, but for the time they were under the curse, it certainly felt like it. So, basically, Pansy saw and felt vicious nightmares that were equivalent to Lillian's intent and Lillian's intent was beyond vicious.

She wasn't even sure if the Parkinsons' heiress would make it back to her sixth year. Whatever it was, it didn't bother her one way or another. To her, the Pansy-issue had been dealt with. It was doubtful that the girl would ever disrespect her the way she had done again and, even _if_ she did, it certainly would be the last thing she would do. That one chance Pansy got was for no other reason than her grovelling father and the fact that she was indeed the only heiress of one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

That girl was more than lucky.

For now, though, she had other problems.

She closed her book with a disappointed sigh.

"What's the matter?" Draco asked her, still with some hardness in his voice.

Their relationship had become somewhat frosty since he found out just what exactly she had done to his girlfriend. Lillian chose to ignore it and wait for him to get over it...for now.

She, sitting on her usual seat by the fireplace, leaned her head back and stretched her legs out before turning slightly to face the blonde boy sitting next to her. "Turns out that _ya sang_ isn't as exciting as I initially thought. You just mix a few ingredients to get a couple of poisons...it's basically like...brewing potions. I expected more."

"My Lady...may I ask you something?"

Lillian, suppressing a pleased grin that threatened to break out every time she got addressed as _my Lady_ , motioned with a hand for him to continue.

"Why...were you so vicious with Pansy?"

"Draco," Lillian began, her face betraying her anger at such an unnecessary, foolish, stupid question, "I will overlook the stupidity of your question just this once because you have yet to disappoint me." She gathered herself up on their sofa, pulling one leg underneath her as she turned her body to fully face him. "You do remember what your precious girlfriend has called me, even after I revealed that I have agreed to become the Dark Lord's bride, do you not?"

"Of course! I know it was stupid, I told her several times to watch her tongue and to show you respect, believe me, I did! But...I still can't help but feel that...maybe you overreacted a bit," Draco mumbled the rest, obviously wary of her reaction.

Lillian cocked her head to the side, her eyes slightly narrowed and an unnerving smile on her face, her voice barely above a whisper. "I overreacted, you say? I overreacted to Pansy calling the Dark Lord's future bride, one of the two only remaining descendants of Slytherin himself, a mudblood slut? The Dark Lord himself has marked me, he has chosen me as his apprentice. He trains me personally. He has chosen me as the mother of his future heirs and heiresses. And you have the gall to tell me that I overreacted to an insult directed to my bloodline and virtue? Are you out of your mind, Draco? Should I have just rolled over, let that hag insult _me_ – a parselmouth, a descendant of House Slytherin – in our common room in front of basically every other Slytherin?

"That's not what I meant..."

"Then you better curb your tongue. Your girlfriend has had _months_ to get that attitude of hers sorted out. She should be back in Hogwarts by the start of our sixth year...should her mind-healer not be completely incompetent. The Dark Lord specifically ordered me to not do any permanent harm, so I didn't do permanent harm." Lillian grinned cruelly at him. "Don't worry, you won't have to marry a vegetable."

Draco glared at her, his knuckles turning white as he fisted the material of his uniform pants, but he continued his questioning. "So you really agreed to marry the Dark Lord?"

"Oh, yes. I would be a fool not to."

"Why? He is around...fifty or so years older than you."

"Only in age, Draco." She cocked her head slightly to the side. "His current body...I would guess is around ten years older than me. He is very attractive. Powerful. Intelligent. Everything that no other man in this world is. The fact that he chose me is...an honour."

"So...you are in on this by your own free will?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

Draco shrugged, suddenly looking bashful.

"I just wanted to make sure, I guess. With...you know, the Prophet articles about you and then you say that you agreed to marry someone several decades your senior...who also happens to be the one making you an orphan. You may be a terrible person...but you still don't deserve to again be forced into something you don't want."

Blinking a couple of times, Lillian allowed herself a small chuckle before patting Draco on his arm. "I have to admit, that is sweet. But still, your worry is unwarranted. Everything I do, I do on my own volition. I very much look forward to being officially bonded to the most powerful Dark Lord there ever was. And, just between the two of us –" Lillian smirked, before whispering conspiratorially, "– all those decades of experience make for a wonderful lover."

Draco paled and shuddered at that before glaring at Lillian's laughter. "I seriously could have spent the rest of my life without ever knowing that."

* * *

"Okay, seriously, this is getting ridiculous."

Lillian was standing in front of yet another so-called educational decree. At first, they were amusing but, slowly, they began to become a nuisance. Forbidding student organizations? Umbridge becoming the High Inquisitor?

"My father didn't warn us about this, that's for sure."

"The minister seems to be losing his mind."

"That's ten points from Slytherin, Miss Potter."

Lillian slowly turned around to come face to face with Dolores Umbridge. So far, she had been successful in just avoiding her attention, but all those ridiculous decrees started to become more and more restrictive. If it were up to her, it was time to finally overthrow the ministry and take reign of the wizarding world's leadership.

"If you would follow me, Miss Potter."

Lillian's face didn't betray any emotions as she silently followed the woman to her office. Neither said a word while they walked through the halls of the castle. Then, they finally reached the DADA teacher's office. Once inside, Lillian visibly cringed. Everywhere she looked was pastel in colouration. Everywhere she looked she saw kittens.

It was disgusting.

"Please sit, Miss Potter. Tea?"

"No."

Lillian took pleasure in the visible tick her lack of respect forced out of Umbridge's ever-smiling expression.

What did catch her off guard, though, was when Umbridge leaned slightly forward and a necklace slipped out from under her blouse. It was a locket of heavy gold with a serpentine S, made out of green glittering stones.

"That is a beautiful locket, ma'am."

Umbridge smiled sweetly at her. "It is a family heirloom. My bloodline is traceable to the Selwyns. This was handed down for several generations until it reached me."

 _Liar_.

Lillian hated it when others thought her gullible, naïve and easy to fool. No, she was the one to manipulate, trick, lie and cheat. She was the one to play others.

Umbridge would die, that much was certain.

It would be easy. One strong cutting hex and she would paint all this disgusting pastel in beautiful, sticky red.

Her fingers itched and-

_'You are still too impulsive, too wild, apprentice.'_

No. She had to be smart about this. She knew she had seen this locket somewhere, some tapestry or illustration maybe. It would be quick to find.

_'You are also cunning, yes. Your wild nature –' he pulled her towards him, his hand firmly on her lower back as he pressed her front tightly against his, making her gasp, '– arouses me more than I care to admit, but you have to reign your impulsiveness in.'_

She would not disappoint him.

"Now, Miss Potter. Your punishment for speaking out of turn against our dear Minister. You will write _'Minister Fudge is always right'_ ten times, since it was only your first time to attract my attention negatively. No, no." Umbridge waved her off when she reached into her school bag to take out her quill and ink bottle. "I have a special quill for occasions like these."

Lillian eyed the quill suspiciously but didn't say anything else. She dipped its tip into an ink bottle and began to write when a slight gasp escaped her at the burning sensation on the back of her hand.

Momentarily confused, she kept writing, wondering why the ink appeared to be red instead of the black she used until the irritated skin on the back of her hand caught her eye. It was very, very faint and one had to _really_ look to see it but –

_You are a dead woman, Umbridge. Not right now, but I will kill you, slowly and painfully._

* * *

"Draco! What is the consensus among your father and his peers towards Umbridge?"

Startled, the blonde took a few moments to answer. "Aside from her distracting Dumbledore, she is useless. Expendable."

"Good."

Without another word she left the common room again and headed straight to Snape's office. She knocked once with her good hand, the other feeling extremely tender from the use of the black quill.

"Miss Potter, please come in."

Without a word, Lillian went straight to take a seat across from her head of house's chair, waiting for him to sit down. "I need a small bowl of murtlap essence, Sir."

Snape wordlessly went to prepare the concoction and handed it to her, watching as she let out a small sigh of relief after sinking her hand in it. "Care to explain what happened?"

"Umbridge uses a blood quill as punishment," was all she said and it was enough.

One who didn't know the potions professor as good as she did would think he didn't react at all, but she saw the small telltale signs: the clenching of his jaw, the way he breathed out heavily from his nose.

"Don't act against her. It was a stupid thing; I wasn't aware she was behind me when I insulted the minister. She _will_ die, but not just yet."

Snape sighed. "You don't have to d–"

"As endearing as it is, Sir, you don't have to protect me in such ways. I take pleasure in torture and murder. You just do what you do best: stay in the shadows and watch over me when no one can see you."

She narrowed her eyes at the pained look that flashed over Snape's face.

* * *

It was some time later when she returned to the common room. Most of the Slytherins had retreated into their dorms, only a couple two- or third-years and Daphne Greengrass were left. Sitting next to the Greengrass heiress, Lillian took a quick look over the blonde girl's essay. Nodding in approval, she was about to lean back when her eyes caught Daphne's trembling hand.

Raising an eyebrow, she addressed the girl. "Are you afraid of me, Daphne?"

"No, my Lady! I-"

"I like it when people are afraid of me. It gives me power over them and I like having power over others," Lillian began, her face serious, "but you don't have to fear me... _yet_. You have done absolutely nothing to disappoint me so far, Daphne. You have never made me angry either, even when you and the others were still so valiantly rebellious."

Daphne didn't say anything, her face turned away from Lillian.

"Look at me," Lillian demanded. "Are you afraid because of what I did to Pansy?"

"Yes, my Lady," Daphne whispered.

"Have you done anything similar to what Pansy did that I don't know of? Have you insulted me behind my back? Have you insulted my bloodline behind my back?"

Daphne looked panicked. "No! I haven't! I swear!"

"Then stop acting like a helpless toddler around me. I will not punish followers – especially my inner circle – without cause, Daphne. Pansy needed to be punished. You...you actually deserve to be rewarded at some point. I will take that up with my future Lord Husband." Lillian then leaned back against the sofa, closing her eyes with a weary sigh.

"Are you alright, my Lady? And thank you," the blonde hastily added.

"That Umbridge woman uses a blood quill as a punishment method, so don't get caught doing things she doesn't approve of."

Daphne baulked at that. "Really?!"

"Yes. She is living on borrowed time. Say, Daphne," Lillian began, "you don't happen to remember seeing a golden locket with small green gemstones forming an S somewhere, do you?"

"That sounds an awful lot like what Salazar Slytherin is wearing in that tapestry over there, my Lady," Daphne answered.

Lillian's eyes shot open and she got up so quickly, she felt dizzy for a moment. Quickly walking over to her ancestor's large tapestry, she immediately zoned in on his neck. She felt her pulse shooting up and an angry vein appeared on her temple as she clenched her teeth.

_"THAT BITCH!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the locket was stolen later, but I needed something to finally involve Umbridge in some way since I always found those decrees and that squad thing she had going with the Slytherin kids kind of silly.


	14. Alliances And A Cave

The weekend following her detention with Umbridge, Lillian, hidden under her heirloom, sneaked to Snape's office, so she could use his floo and travel to her master.

She had to tell him personally what she found Umbridge wearing. It was too important. It belonged to them – to her master! He was a direct descendant of Slytherin and that slimy toad of a woman had the gall to wear such a piece of ancient jewellery and claim it belonged to her?!

She hoped her future Lord Husband would let her loose from her leash and allow her to rip that Umbridge woman to pieces.

Once she stepped through the fire, she called out for the Malfoy house-elf. "Dobby!"

The small creature looked up at her fearfully. "Dobby is here, Lady Miss Potter..."

Lillian wrinkled her nose at its sight. "Where is the Dark Lord?"

"Dark Lord sir bes in meeting..."

"Hm. Get out of my sight."

Lillian then purposefully walked through the, by now familiar, Malfoy Manor towards her master's conference room, the one where she was first led to by Narcissa Malfoy last summer.

Soon enough she arrived and, although she heard several voices through the closed door, she knocked, effectively halting any conversation that was being held inside.

"Come in," she heard her master's irritation clearly, but still, confidently, opened the door.

"My Lord," Lillian immediately went down on a knee, her head bowed submissively, "I apologize for the interruption, but I have news of the kind I felt would best be delivered immediately and personally."

The room was silent, and Lillian felt nervousness creeping up inside of her. She kept her position in fear of irritating her master even further. She could tell he already was displeased at having his meeting interrupted.

After a few moments, he finally spoke up. "I will see how urgent this news really is in a moment, apprentice. For now, take a seat next to me."

"Yes, my Lord." She got up and let her gaze wander over the Dark Lord's guests; some were part of his inner circle as she recognized those faces, some she didn't know.

After conjuring a chair next to his own, her Master motioned for her to sit down. He then returned his attention to the guests in front of him, sitting on either side of the long table, as he was sitting at one end himself.

"Most of you are aware of my dear apprentice and those who are not: this is Lillian Potter, former Golden Girl of Dumbledore's, current apprentice of mine. She answers to me and me only. You will show her respect, you will address her accordingly. If any of you threatens her, insults her or harms her in any way she is free to punish you as she sees fit, barring killing you outright or inflicting permanent harm."

Lillian leaned back into her chair in satisfaction at the way her master introduced her.

"That's the Potter girl, eh?" One of the unknown spoke up and Lillian wrinkled her nose in distaste; he looked like an animal, yellow-ish teeth, wild blue eyes, an unruly beard and wet, dark grey hair.

"Indeed, Greyback. Lillian, this is Fenrir Greyback, the leader of our werewolf army."

"A pleasure," Lillian answered, holding back a biting comment because she did not want to antagonize allies of her master, despite her hatred for half-beasts. To her, werewolves were animals and deserved to be eradicated, but if her master saw use in them...who was she to disagree with the Dark Lord? She was sure that, once their use was diminished, he would handle them accordingly.

"This is our ally from France, Pierre Arnette," the Dark Lord continued his introductions, pointing to a pale elder man with piercing grey eyes and a haughty frown on his face. "From Germany, Anna-Marie Durm, from Poland Piotr Kowalczyk, from Egypt Hassan Salah, from Saudi-Arabia Abdul Azim Salib, from Japan Himiko Kobayashi, from Brazil Carolina Da Cunha, from Peru Claudio Betalleluz and, from the United States, Victoria Hunt." He paused, then folded his hands under his chin. "We all have something in common, we all have the same goal. We are the Dark Lords and Ladies of our generation and our countries. We want to push magic back to where it belongs and do the same to muggles."

"An alliance would, of course, make sense then, my Lord. Subjugating a population in the billions is no easy task after all," Lillian commented as she took in the other Lords and Ladies. They all had something dark and powerful about them. It was almost touchable, right there in the air, that they had dabbled in the darkest of arts to gain the power they now had. She was sure, however, that none had gone as far as her very own master.

"Indeed. The Light has allowed the muggle population too much freedom, too much time, too much space. They have grown in ways that none of us could have imagined and as a result, over the past centuries, our population has dwindled. One mistake and one reaction of muggle forces can destroy a whole magical community in a single strike."

"What role will your apprentice play, Lord Voldemort?" Pierre Arnette asked, a French accent not apparent, although he did pronounce the Dark Lord's moniker in French.

"For now, she will play her role as the Dumbledore's mascot while weakening his position, as she has been successful in doing so already. She's strewn doubt among his followers and we all know that doubt is a Leader's worst enemy. In the coming months, her role will be more prominent."

"I do not see how a girl as young as her could be as useful as you make her out to be, Tom," the Japanese Dark Lady spoke softly. Lillian would lie if she claimed that she was not intrigued by the small woman's appearance. She almost looked otherworldly with her pitch-black and long, straight hair, her milky white skin, blood-red lips and long, almost sharp fingernails. Her traditional Japanese garments completed her look of something ethereal, of something straight out of Eastern Asian fables.

"Don't underestimate her, Himiko. Lillian is not your average teenage witch or else I would not have given her the position I did."

The barest of smiles graced her lips. "You do understand my scepticism, I am sure, considering your madness during your last reign."

"I have made mistakes, I must admit," her Master said, his voice was soft yet firm, not losing any of the power it usually carried, "but my resurrection did not go as planned, obviously, because I have regained this body and not the one I intended, and it was a lucky thing to happen. I have yet to experience the madness my former self suffered through. I am very much sane now, I can assure you of that."

"My Lord, if I may speak up?" Lillian asked, gaining the attention of her Master and the others present.

He glanced at her. "You may."

"If I remember correctly, the ritual required the blood of an enemy, forcibly taken. I have not seen you as such since at least my second year before I landed in the graveyard. Could that be the reason you have regained this body instead of your intended one?"

He nodded. "Quite possible. Every detail in a ritual is important and the slightest changes, mismatches or mistakes can alter the outcome in unpredictable ways." He sighed, his attention returning the guests. "As I said, I did get lucky, but I am not complaining, mind you. This clarity of mind is something I have missed sorely."

There was silence for a few moments before her master spoke again. "Let us return to the matters at hand…"

* * *

After the last of the Dark Lord's guests had left, he exited the conference room set up for him in Malfoy Manor, indicating for her to follow him.

Lillian did just so, keeping pace with the Dark Lord as he made way to his private quarters. Once they arrived, she closed the door behind her upon entering. Her master sat down on his chair, then looked at her expectantly. "I really am curious what it is you found so important to leave Hogwarts and intrude into a conference I was holding; one as important as this one, no less."

She fidgeted a bit. "I apologize, my Lord. I had no idea there were other Lords and Ladies invited."

"Go on."

"The reason why I am here is that Umbridge has something I believe belongs to you, my Lord," she said. "I have seen what I believe to be Salazar Slytherin's locket on her."

She wasn't sure what kind of reaction she had expected from her master upon that revelation, but the scream full of rage escaping him, the hole he exploded into the wall next to them as he suddenly pulled out his wand; those reactions were not what she had been expecting.

She would have understood anger – after all, a mere ministry lackey was wearing a family heirloom belonging to the Slytherin line and claiming it to be of Selwyn origin and belonging to her, but this was pure, unadulterated rage her master was showing. Never before had she seen him lose his composure like this.

"Impossible!" he finally screamed, slamming his fist on his desk and breathing heavily. "Are you sure, Lillian?"

"Yes, my Lord," Lillian answered, ignoring the fact that the Dark Lord started to call her more and more often by her first name instead of the title he gave her. "At first, I wasn't sure what it was. I just knew I saw it somewhere until Daphne pointed out that what I described to her looked like what Salazar Slytherin was wearing on his tapestry in our common room. I took a look myself and it was true! What Umbridge was wearing looked exactly like what Slytherin was wearing in the tapestry."

He was clearly seething. "I used Slytherin's locket – _my family heirloom_ – as a Horcrux. Come with me Lillian, I have to go check in on something."

She was shocked into a stupor, but shook herself out of it and muttered a ' _yes, my Lord_ ' before gripping onto his arm and letting him apparate them away.

Moments later, after taking a couple of calming breaths, Lillian took in their new surroundings. They were seaside, a cave in front of them. She looked at her master and he glanced at her.

"The hiding place of the locket. I still have hope that what you saw on Umbridge was a fake, but I cannot be sure without seeing the original here for myself."

She nodded. "I understand, my Lord. It is an honour that you would allow me to accompany you here."

"It is indeed," the Dark Lord answered as he let his gaze wander over the location. "I remember, bringing Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop here. I was still a child, my magic so very raw and untrained. I experimented on them, I had snakes threaten them when they tried to run away. I rendered them…speechless, so to speak," he chuckled.

Lillian looked around again, the steep cliffs and rocky environment making it seemingly impossible to get people down here. "How did you get them down here, my Lord? It doesn't seem like an easy trip to make."

He hummed in agreement. "Indeed, it isn't, my dearest apprentice. How would you do it?"

She smiled in understanding. "Fear and magic, my Lord."

"The two greatest tools you can have." He placed a hand on her shoulder, making her smile grow wider.

The Dark Lord then stepped towards the cave entrance, which was sealed shut by an unmarked door, before slicing his thumb open with his wand and pressing it against the door. An immense pulse of magic made Lillian stagger lightly. She looked inside the cave with wide eyes when her master once again indicated for her to follow him.

"An offering of blood is required to enter this cave. Anyone can give the offering, but only my blood will deactivate any traps, enchantments, curses, potions and creatures I have set up and used as protection for my Horcrux," her Dark Lord explained while he conjured a boat for them both to step into. "However, I would still recommend not to touch the waters."

Lillian gave the Dark Lord a questioning look, then stared intently at the sea beneath them and she could see bodies upon bodies through the shallow waters in the cave, some face-up, some face-down. Those whose faces she could see had their eyes open, misty as they were as though with cobwebs.

A fascinated gasp escaped her before she looked at her master. "I have never seen an Inferi before, my Lord! This is so fascinating…how many are there in this lake?"

He cocked his head to the side. "I cannot say for sure, but the number should be easily somewhere in the hundreds."

"So you do practice Necromancy, my Lord?"

"Indeed. Death is the ultimate enemy one shall defeat, and I have done so several times, Lillian," he said. "I have created Horcruxes and I have bound the dead to my will. Soul Magic and Necromancy are the tools one needs to have power over death itself."

Lillian thought about her master's words. She, herself, had been made immortal for as long as her Horcrux remained safe. She didn't want to die, so she had no regrets whatsoever for partaking in an act of such darkness, an act considered of such evil and depravity.

Of course, once upon a time, when Lillian still had been weak and helpless, there had been days when she had wished for death. After Vernon had raped her the first time, when she had been in such unbelievable pain, she had begged for death to come and claim her over and over again. She had been but a child then. She had been in the darkness of her cupboard, she remembered the silent sobs escaping her, she remembered the pulsing and burning pain between her legs, the wetness of Vernon's release and her own blood burning her abused sex.

She would and could never forget it, how she had hoped to die.

But those times were gone. Vernon was gone, burned to a crisp by her own hands and before he did, she had made sure he would witness the slaughter of his family.

Now she was not weak and helpless anymore. She had power, power beyond anyone else of her generation. She had witnessed and partaken in magic others would never even dream of.

She had killed and tortured without an ounce of remorse. She would be the bride of the most powerful Dark Lord of his generation – probably of all time. No, she would live and witness the change she and her Dark Lord would bring upon this world. She, Lillian Potter, would see how the magical world would regain its rightful place and the non-magical be subjugated like they should have remained hundreds of years ago.

"We've arrived," her Dark Lord spoke up after their silence, the boat rocking against a small island with a stone basin in the middle of it.

They got off the boat, her master immediately reaching into the basin and retrieving the locket lying in it.

Opening it, he cursed wildly as he took out a note before reading it. With a scream, he threw the locket onto the ground, shattering it. It was obvious that it was fake.

"Curse you, Black. _Curse you_!"

"Black?" Lillian was confused and surprised. "Do you mean my godfather has something to do with this, my Lord?"

He shook his head, his fury still palpable. "No. His younger brother, Regulus. He found out about me creating at least this Horcrux." Then a laugh escaped him. "But he didn't get far. He could never have been able to escape my traps by himself. He probably had his blasted house-elf he had been so fond of with him, but Regulus, despite all of his efforts, will serve me for the rest of eternity," he ended his rant while staring into the lake.

"What about the original, my Lord? What do you wish me to do about it?" Lillian asked, eager to do all she could to be of service for her Master.

The Dark Lord turned and looked intently into her eyes, an intensity burning so strongly in them that it made her tremble ever so slightly. "You, my dear apprentice, will bring my Horcrux back to me. I do not care how you do it. I want it back and I want it back intact without anyone being aware of its true nature. Fail to do so and your punishment will be most severe."

Lillian nodded shakily. "Y-yes, my Lord."


	15. Vara

Tom Marvolo Riddle was waiting. A week had passed and he was still waiting for news on his apprentice's attempts in retrieving his Horcrux from Umbridge's clutches. He was impatient and wanted results immediately, but he also knew that he had not given Lillian a time limit. She could just wait until the end of the school year and act then, which, if he was being honest with himself, would be the safest route. But he also knew her better than that by now and he knew she was always so eager to please him and earn his favour. She would always try to get results sooner rather than later.

He was confident in her resourcefulness and her capabilities. There was little doubt in his mind that, eventually, his Horcrux would be back in his possession, but he was impatient, very much so.

It was a good thing he was expecting a guest, then. A distraction was welcome in situations like this. The constant waiting, the constant worry that maybe something still could go wrong – it made him lose focus, as loath as he was to admit that.

The sudden gust of wind had him look up from Fenrir Greyback's report he was reading. Out stepped a young woman dressed in garbs that betrayed her primal, wild nature. Her face would look innocent if it weren't painted completely white with black lines moving from her eyes like thin veins, accentuating the bizarre look. Her delicate neck was adorned by a thin string which held several skulls of various animals, ranging from birds to rodents and sticking out of her inky hair were black feathers. Her feet were muddy and bare, something the Dark Lord was sure would test Narcissa's nerves. The fur garb she was wearing left most of her thighs and her arms unclothed and he could see that the black lines from her face travelling down from her neck covered even more, reaching all the way down to her feet. He was unsure if it was just a really good job of ritualistic body paintings or an actual tattoo.

To complete the picture, the woman held a gnarly wooden staff in her hand, fully adorned with various fetishes and a human skull with very complex runic carvings sitting firmly on the top.

"Vara, it has been quite some time since we last met," he spoke first, indicating for the woman to take a seat on one of the Malfoy's luxurious chairs.

"It has indeed and I see that time was as kind to you as it has always been for me."

Her soft voice was always something that would catch him off guard at first as it seemed so ill-fitting to her appearance.

Once she sat down across from him, he took a sip from his glass of water before replying. "You and I both know time had very little to do with our appearance."

A predatory grin showed itself fleetingly on the woman's face, giving her a monstrous look with the paint covering her skin, but she didn't speak. Instead, her gaze locked firmly onto him, studying him intently.

"So, why have you sought me out again, Vara?" he asked. "You were content with keeping your Coven out of the last war."

The woman didn't speak at first but cocked her head slightly to the side before she inched a bit forward in her seat, the bones on her 'necklace' and staff clattering gently with the movement. "While your proposal was intriguing at the time, you were too unstable and unreliable for me to risk the last of my kind by joining your cause."

The Dark Lord nodded. "Fair enough. And that has changed now?"

She grinned, baring her teeth in an almost animalistic manner. " _You_ tell _me_. Imagine my surprise when a Soothsayer whispered into my ear that not Lord Voldemort but Tom Riddle returned from the dead."

"They are one and the same," Riddle replied through clenched teeth, his temper rising, but he knew better than to lash out. He respected the woman's capabilities. She was dangerous and her magic was still a mystery to him after so many years. It probably would also remain as such because only those accepted into her Coven were able to even learn its theory. He knew that he could never be accepted since a Coven was a gathering of witches, which automatically removed him from the equation.

"Are they though?" Vara asked, the decorative bones again clattering as she leaned towards him, her piercing amber eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Isn't Lord Voldemort the name associated with the mad snake? Are you still mad, Tom?"

"Lord Voldemort is the title I gave myself when I was ambitious and young," he explained. "The title itself and me losing my mind when I splintered my soul one too many times have nothing to do with one another."

Vara was silent for a few moments, her eyes unwavering and unblinking while firmly fixated on him. "I see. Tell me about that Potter girl."

He raised a brow. "What do you want to know?"

"What is her role?" she asked. "Is she just there to warm your bed and breed you an heir? Because if that is the case, then I would love to clutch her from your claws. I could not allow such talent and potential to be wasted in such a way."

While he did not believe in prophecies or the ability to predict the future, he still found the capabilities of Vara's soothsayer unnerving and he never found things unnerving. But that soothsayer – a blind woman who offered her eyes in a ritual _'to truly see'_ – knew more than he would like. A soothsayer was a person 'who spoke the truth' and Riddle could not help but feel exposed in her presence. She could not see the future – that was impossible – but she could see in ways not even legilimency could. Legilimency and occlumency were powerful tools but a soothsayer's vision was something else entirely.

"Lillian," he began, "belongs to me. She has a powerful bloodline, magical talent far beyond anyone in her generation and she is completely and utterly devoted to me. She is a key, if not _the_ key for my vision of magical Britain. Everything beyond that is a bonus both of us enjoy."

Grinning again, Vara let out a short cackling laugh before speaking. "Good to see you remember that lying to me is fruitless. Good to see you do not waste the talents of your pretty little apprentice."

The both of them were silent for some time, the Dark Lord quietly taking sips from his water while Vara looked at him, her piercing eyes never leaving him for a second.

After a while, he got up from his seat, his arms crossed behind his back, before turning to the Coven witch. "I will, once again, offer you a place among my followers. Your soothsayer should know I have no intention of betraying you or your kind. You are powerful wielders of magic and have a rightful place in my vision of a reborn magic world."

She scoffed. "We have no loyalty for any Dark or Light Lords. We simply wish to practice our magic without having to hide out of fear of a repeat of history. Come with me, Tom, and promise in front of my soothsayer that you and yours will leave the Covens alone once we re-establish ourselves in society again, and you will have our magic fight for your cause."

"Very well," he nodded at Vara's demands, "lead the way."

* * *

"Daphne, I need you to have your family get a few things for me and smuggle them into school."

Through the past week, Lillian had been very busy wrecking her brain over the Horcrux situation. She wasn't sure if it had been intentional or not, but she sure was glad that her Dark Lord had forgone a time limit for this endeavour. She could think and research without having to worry about getting immediate results, and she did a lot of thinking and researching since the Dark Lord had tasked her with retrieving his Horcrux from Umbridge. Of course, the easiest and fastest way would be to just kill her, but it would also be the dumbest way and Lillian was a lot of things but dumb wasn't one of them. She knew better than to bring a host of Aurors into school over the murder of a ministry employee.

So, she thought of several different ways to go about this and, finally, decided upon one. However, it was a very risky thing to do since she had never done anything of the like before and it could go wrong in countless ways. Still, she had trust in her abilities. She was sure she could pull it off.

Daphne nodded and grabbed a parchment and quill. "Of course, my Lady. What do you need?"

It never ceased to bring a smile to Lillian's face when her subjects addressed her properly. It was addictive in the best of all possible ways. "Here is a list of everything I need," she said and pointed at the open page on her ancient tome. "Make sure they know just how important and urgent it is that I get these items."

"Of course, my Lady," Daphne replied. She wrote down what was needed and, with a quick bow, sprinted out of the common room, the parchment quickly tucked away in her robes.

"What was that about, if you don't mind me asking, my Lady?"

Glancing at Draco from the corner of her eye, Lillian proceeded to leaf through the tome she had bought during her third year when she had snuck into Knockturn Alley.

"If it would concern you, Draco, you would know." She lazily turned another page, then spoke again. "Say, did you know that there used to be Covens up around two hundred or so years ago? At least this tome says so. Apparently, they had suddenly just disappeared."

He shook his head. "No, never heard of anything of that sort."

"It says a Coven used to have their own magic but when they disappeared their magic was lost too. Such a shame," Lillian shook her head as she silently mourned for all the lost secrets and magics. "I wish I could access the Black library...just imagine what I could find there if your family library holds information of vanished magic societies! All those secret and possibly lost arts..."

Malfoy didn't reply to that but it didn't matter to Lillian. She knew he wasn't as interested in ancient and lost magic, in forbidden magic, like she was. To him, what mattered was wealth, influence and comfort. She could appreciate that, but he didn't like to get his hands dirty and that was something Lillian could and would not tolerate. It was getting better though.

Slowly but surely Malfoy started to remove himself from his father's shackles. He still had a ways to go, but progress was being made and that was something which pleased Lillian immensely.

Progress was what pulled him away from Malfoy Senior after all and, while she did not actively hate him anymore, she did still hate what he stood for: greed, laziness and, worst of all, cowardice.

She admired the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange and Barty Crouch Jr because they wore their marks with pride and openly enjoyed what they were doing.

When Lillian's mindset started to shift away from helplessness for the first time and drifted towards the safe haven she found in the darkest of magics, in her lust for power, she started to find out as much as she could about the war everyone was so skittish about.

And she learned _so_ much. She started to understand that people without magic were inferior, that she was wielding something that made her superior to the mundane. She devoured as many books in the forbidden section of the library as she could, learning about all the things she could do to the Dursleys and those that had ignored her screams, those that had ignored her plight, those that had ignored her begging for help.

It was intoxicating, understanding for the first time in her life that she was not entirely helpless. And when she somehow, by chance, had gotten her hands onto the Dark Lord's diary, communicating with him – or a separate, sentient piece of him – for the first time, making it clear that she did not want to fight him, that was when her descent finally, truly started. All she had to do was suffer a few more years, bide her time. And she did.

As did Bellatrix, Barty and so many more. The stories she read about them were her gateway to who she would eventually become.

Neither Bella nor Barty knew the role they had played in guiding her through her first steps, but she would eventually tell them.

The Dark Lord himself was and would always be her biggest influence of course. He was the terror she idolized, the ultimate embodiment of power and darkness she enveloped herself in, but his two psychotic and, aside from Lillian herself, most important assets had played a very prominent role as well.

Lucius Malfoy on the other hand...his story reminded her of what she had escaped from: weakness and cowardice. He owned nothing of what he did and that same mentality was deeply instilled into his son.

Glancing at Malfoy, who was diligently working on his homework, as was the rest of her group of followers, Lillian smirked.

She was turning them into the right direction alright.

* * *

"Ma'am?"

Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, looked up from the huge pile of parchments strewn across her desk in front of her. She was tired, her back was aching from sitting at her desk and the many, many overtime hours she was taking. After the massacre in the muggle music venue, committed by that monster, the ministry, and the DMLE in particular, were on constant high alert out of fear of something like that happening again.

Deep down in her gut, she knew what was happening and she was mentally preparing herself for it. She knew she would be a target and she did what she could to make sure her niece was taken care of if worse came to worst.

Susan and she were all they had left and she would do all she could to stay alive but, during the war, living was never a certainty, especially when magic was involved.

"Yes, Kingsley?"

"The Unspeakables are finished with their autopsy of that... _thing_. You...need to see this for yourself."

Amelia raised an eyebrow at that. Kingsley was one of the most rock-solid and stoic men she knew and to see him shaken like that was almost unheard of.

She was certain from the very start that the nature of the monster would be less than pleasant, but now she had to admit she was morbidly curious.

The elevator ride to the Department of Mysteries was a quiet one, but once they arrived there and stepped out of their ride, they were greeted by an excited and masked woman.

"Head Auror Bones, a pleasure. Please follow me."

Amelia glanced at Kingsley for a moment, then they both followed the Unspeakable.

"You are the first member of the DMLE to make use of our department's capabilities. We appreciate your trust because, understandably, we generate a lot of scepticism."

"I suppose this trust will be rewarded with results?" she asked.

A low, humourless chuckle escaped the Unspeakable while she led the two Aurors into a wide and bright room, the beast lying on a large stone plate covered in runic markings, its chest and belly cut open, its organs filling different, enchanted glass containers. "It depends on your interpretation of the word result. As for this," the Unspeakable pointed at the monster, "we first had to answer the question whether it was natural or created. Turns out it was created. This thing had been _human_ once. A human going by the name of Peter Pettigrew, to be exact."

Amelia now knew why Kingsley was so shaken.


End file.
